Adjusting to Life as a Part Veela Man Magnet
by Lamia-Kuei
Summary: Draco Malfoy's discovered his Veela roots and has to deal with it. Humor and romance with Ron Weasley ensues. Harry and Hermione observe and participate in the mayhem. Finished
1. So it Begins

Narcissa Malfoy was worried. This was an odd event, because it was unheard of for her to be worried. Of course, this fact was due to her habit of refusing to tell anybody she was worried. But here it was. Her son's sixteenth birthday had come and gone and she knew something was not normal about it. She had no illusions about what sort of mother she was. But even though she cared for Draco less and less as he grew older and older and farther and farther away from her limited affection, it was still there. A bond had formed when she held her baby for perhaps one minute before he was swept away from her, to be cared for by hired nurses who did all the messy work needed involved with feeding, changing, and generally everything about babies that Narcissa as a Malfoy was not wont to do because it was just beneath a Malfoy mother to do them. Perhaps if she had tried harder just a bit back then, set up some appointments to hold her baby and hear his gurgles and giggles, perhaps... But that was then. So now, to assuage her worries that niggled at the back of her mind, she quietly observed her son like she had always done, never touching nor talking to him. 

It became clear to her what was not normal, what was going to happen. Her son would Blossom. At first, this idea was so absurd, she dismissed it. After all, how can a male, with so much diluting human blood, Blossom? But the signs were there, undetectable by all save those with Veela blood. Narcissa considered the evidence. His looks were uncommonly fine; he was always such a beautiful baby. He had passion, alien to the Malfoy line. He desired with all his heart, and hated with the same vigor. He was a constant seeker of attention, sometimes too much for his own good. All strong Veela traits. And he was beginning, not too much, but beginning to show the first signs of Blossoming. Narcissa could faintly in the chairs he just left and in things he just touched, detect wisps of the Veela pheromones. If Narcissa had a more developed sense of humor and a less developed sense of decorum, she would have laughed at the irony of it all. 

She had not Blossomed herself. In her, all that remained physically of her long dead Veela ancestor was a certain beauty, intangible and untouchable by time and an instinctual knowledge of how to pacify and entrance men. And this dubious skill of hers was useless after she was claimed and courted by Lucius Malfoy. He was untouched by her charm after marrying her, after she did her duty of producing a son. And perhaps the unseen legacy of her Veela ancestor was in her acceptance and indifference to the neglect from her man. She knew that was all he desired of her anyway. There was nothing left for the both of them but her acceptance of him as her husband and his tacit duty as a husband by not straying. But that wasn't the point. The point was that her son, Draco Malfoy and descendent of Tatyana the Peerless of Carpathia, would Blossom and become irresistible, despite being male and despite being so human that if it weren't for the faint pheromones, Narcissa would have gladly checked herself into St. Mungo's for her thoughts. To prevent any Nasty Surprises, Narcissa decided that she would tell her son. 

  
Draco Malfoy just had a Nasty Surprise. His mother had just calmly informed him that he would soon be a Man Magnet. Okay, so she had put it in more delicate and diplomatic words, but the horrible meaning was the same. He sat dazed as she went over the Blossoming that happened to every young Veela or part Veela with enough Veela blood and what to expect. Afterwards, he heartily wished he could just Obliviate himself. He couldn't really be part Veela, could he? He was a male! He went through the Manor library in a state of detached panic. He had to restrain himself from burning the genealogy charts. Father would punish him if he committed property damage. He was part Veela and a bud about to Blossom, if one used his mother's words. But he just couldn't accept it just yet. In the back of his mind, there was a basic idea that every reasonably humanoid magical species capable of interbreeding with humans had separate genders. If he was going to Blossom, then by all rights he should be a Woman Magnet. Once again, a point should be taken. He was male! 

So he searched for all he could find on the physiology of Veela. The relief at finding there are such things as male Veela was short lived. Male Veela were not born. Veela were all female by birth. During the mating season, a number of the strongest and most aggressive Veela in a population of Veela would turn 'male' for the duration. They would breed, clutches of eggs would be laid, and then they would return to their normally female state. Apparently, Draco's human blood nullified the mandate that Veela be female while not preventing him from being a Man Magnet. The injustice of it all. Draco was definitely not looking forward to next term at Hogwarts. 

  
Fever. Fever. Fever! Draco could die from the fever.   
"Too soon, too soon," he muttered into his soaked pillow.   
But he could not deny the new force fighting its way out of his body. He could practically taste pheromones leaking through his pores. Leaking into the Boys' Dorms. Draco's body galvanized with fear. Males. Too many males. Draco ran. Cold night air chilled him, but it was no relief for the fever. Just get away from Slytherin, with its vicious vicious males. He ran, not looking nor caring where he was going, not caring that Filch might appear from behind the next corner. In his panic, he ran into something in the middle of the hallway and a surprised Harry Potter appeared, his Invisibility Cloak pooling at his feet.   
"Potter!"   
Harry was gawking at Draco. Draco took a step back and was about to run, when his change completed itself. Raw waves of desire inducing pheromones hit Harry full force and he pounced. 

"I am going to kill myself."   
Harry was unsteadily buckling his belt, refusing to look at the battered and supine form of Draco on the ground. Draco slowly propped himself up on one arm and raised an eyebrow at Harry.   
"And just how do you think I feel?"   
"Shut up! This is all your fault-"   
"Yes."   
Harry was definitely not expecting such a candid admission from Draco and he stared, forgetting that Draco was completely nude. Draco sighed and fell back on the flagstones.   
"No doubt you will go crying to Dumbledore about how your virtue was forcibly taken without your say so. But you should be Griffindor enough to hear my explanation."   
Something about Draco's resigned tone compelled Harry to listen.   
"Okay."   
"I am part Veela."   
Harry blinked rapidly, giving a rather uncanny impression of Hedwig.   
"But you're a boy!"   
"Thank you for noticing. Apparently my human blood kept me male but didn't prevent me from having unspeakable amounts of attractiveness to other males. How else do you explain the fact that you were the one behaving like a possessed goat?"   
Harry's face squinched and Draco would have laughed if he weren't preoccupied with finding what was left of his pajamas.   
"You may leave now."   
"What happens next?"   
"I get expelled after you tattle on how I forced you to do unspeakable things to me because I'm part Veela. Saint Potter Has Been Sullied. Headline for the Daily Prophet if I ever heard one."   
"I don't have to tell."   
"Blackmail? How unlike a Gryffindor."   
"I won't blackmail you."   
Draco frowned.   
"Really. Just- just can't we both keep quiet about this? Neither one of us wants anybody else to know, right?"   
"Ah. Of course."   
Draco held his hand out, and Harry took it and they shook hands for the first time without anger between the both of them.   
"We share a secret then."   
"Yeah." 

  
Two weeks later found Draco sulking by himself in bed, the curtains shut and warded with the heaviest blocking spells he knew. Veela were female, Draco knew now, because being male and being desired by other males was just too much to handle. Especially since he didn't like other males in that way. It was ridiculous. He didn't know if his completed Blossoming would make him attracted to males the way he could attract them, and at this rate, if he did find them attractive, he would be bloody grateful for the ending of this torture. There were some near accidents and he was in a state of accelerated paranoia. Dancing was a no-no. Not that he did it on purpose, but he once absentmindedly did a two-step in Potions when he was bored and Longbottom, of all people, was so enthralled that the resulting cauldron meltdown was record breaking. Quidditch practice was a hazard to his life, what with the showers and the smells that went with it. And the strain of keeping his pheromone cloud in check was excruciating. He had figured out early on that if he let it all out in one big blast near a group of girls, nothing would happen. So he did this, until unfortunately the backwash hit some Hufflepuff boys. Luckily, he managed to escape that particular hall. And from what he heard, he had facilitated some new inter-House relationships. Blah. He never wanted to be helpful, especially if people benefited from his discomfort. 

Another night of burning fever and that particular problem was solved, replaced by another. As Veela defined induced desire, desire defined Veela. Now, it was all he can do to prevent being tackled and undergoing some rough copulation, because he wanted it. It was disgusting, when he realized that he had somehow catalogued in his mind all of the most attractive boys in Hogwarts, with rankings based on personality or looks. This was doubly disturbing, because somehow he had included Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers in this list. Apparently, his body desired all and had no scruples whatsoever. In addition to his shocking new egalitarian views on sexual partners, he craved physical contact. He would become wildly covetous when he saw couples holding hands or hugging in the hallways. He needed this sort of attention, yearned for it above all else, and to make matters worse, he could not have it. People of his ilk always shunned physical contact, for familiarity bred contempt and it was imperative that no one be familiar with a Malfoy. Therefore, any physical contact was severely curtailed to the minimum social ritual of handshakes. Draco hated it. 

Then there was the additional problem with Potter. Potter was the only male in Hogwarts whom Draco had ample physical knowledge of. In fact, right now, Draco could exude the exact cocktail of pheromones that would leave Potter helpless and completely susceptible to every carnal whim Draco had and it would not have affected anybody else. But that was not what Draco wanted, because he still despised Potter. Again, his body betrayed him, because it had a taste of complete mindless pleasure from Potter, with no social constraints or even personal constraints between them and it was fervently urging for another go. Draco knew that Potter could only put up a token resistance before succumbing. He came to a decision. 

TBC 


	2. Ron the Marauder

It was delivered with a school owl, completely anonymous, but Harry had no doubt as to whom sent it. 

Potter- A complication has occurred due to certain activities that transpired between us. A discussion is in order. Third Floor, the classroom in front of the statue of Uric the Oddball, 11 o'clock. This is serious. 

  
Harry couldn't define what he felt after reading the note. Malfoy wanted to see him about That Thing That Happened. And if Malfoy had contacted him, when it was clear that he would rather eat boiled slugs than have anything to say to him, then it was obviously important for him to know. So when the rest of the Gryffindor boys were asleep, he took his father's cloak and went to meet with Malfoy. The classroom in question was abandoned and recently unlocked. Malfoy was waiting for him, sitting in a chair transfigured into an extra wide couch.   
"What's happened?" Harry took off his cloak.   
Draco smiled. And then Harry couldn't think of anything else but the desire to kiss Draco within an inch of his life. As he approached Draco, a small thought broke through the fog. Why? He didn't like Draco that way. And suddenly, all desire vanished. Draco frowned when Harry stopped walking.   
"What are you waiting for? Come here."   
"Malfoy, what are you doing?"   
Draco was not expecting Harry to just hesitate like that. He sent out stronger pheromones this time, but Harry only took one step forward before stopping. A look of complete shock took his face.   
"Oh Merlin. You are trying to get me to have sex with you, aren't you?"   
Harry began backing toward the door. Draco stood up, and sent the full force of his pheromone cloud at Harry, twisting into a dance for good measure. Harry stopped again, but he managed to throw off Draco's influence.   
"Why? You don't even like me! You despise me!"   
Draco stopped dancing, stunned.   
"How can you resist?"   
Harry took a breath.   
"Malfoy, why are you doing this?"   
"You tell me how you are resisting first!"   
Both stared at each other for some time.   
"Okay. Remember Professor Moody?"   
"Yes, of course."   
"He put everybody under Imperious, remember? I was the only one to break it. I guess that means I can break you trying to get me to do something I don't want to do. Which is having sex with you. Again. So why do you want to?"   
Draco sat back down on the couch and groaned.   
"It figures that the great Harry Potter can resist Veela magic."   
Harry was fairly sure Draco wouldn't try anything again, so he sat down on the other end of the couch.   
"Potter, I do despise you. It's something I've always done."   
Harry nodded.   
"But right now, I want you."   
"But… Uh…"   
"Surprising, I know."   
"Just because we did it?"   
"In your plebeian words, yes."   
Harry didn't know what to say. Now, he had experienced odd things in his life since coming to Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy admitting that he wanted to purposely have sex with him took odd to another level. Draco looked up.   
"Why haven't you tried to hex me yet?"   
"Oh. I forgot."   
They sat silently for some more minutes. Odd things happened, and when they did, Harry forged onward to face them. Draco wanted to have sex with him. Odd. He didn't want to have sex with Draco. Not odd. They were having a fairly decent conversation. Odd. Two to one ratio. The Gryffindor did what he just had to do. Stick his nose in.   
"Why do you want me?"   
Draco shrugged.   
"Because I had you already, how should I know why? I just needed to be touched and I figured it would be easier with you, you would've kept your mouth shut."   
"Aren't there other guys?"   
"No. No one else has as much to lose by telling. Or really up to my standards."   
Harry snorted.   
"Really. I do have standards. And you happened to be convenient and at least in the top three."   
Draco sighed.   
"But it didn't work. You've foiled me again, Potter. Congratulations."   
"I'm sorry."   
"Why?"   
Harry shrugged.   
"I don't know. You're just lonely, after all."   
Draco closed his eyes and Harry could just feel him withdrawing into himself.   
"Malfoy?"   
"What?"   
"Do you need to have sex?"   
"If I said yes, would you?"   
Harry just glared.   
"Oh all right, it's true. I don't need to have sex with you or anybody. It's just an overwhelming appetite."   
"Right. Er…"   
"Out with it."   
"What if I don't have sex with you, but keep you company?"   
"Ha ha. I am not amused."   
"Really. You could get in a lot of trouble if you go around spouting your Veela magic."   
"Why do you care?"   
Harry shrugged.   
"I don't need your sodding sympathy, Potter."   
"Like you don't need my body."   
Draco sneered. Harry felt very vexed, but decided to just go ahead and gathered Draco into his arms. Draco struggled after about a second of surprise, but Harry held on.   
"What are you doing?"   
"Holding on to you."   
"Why?"   
"First of all, what you just tried to do was practically an Imperious. I won't let you do that to other people. Second of all, I've got the other half of our secret, so I think this is something I can do, since I did you."   
Draco winced.   
"Third. If I let you touch me, won't it be enough?"   
Draco's face took on a licentious look.   
"Hugs are the maximum," Harry quickly amended.   
"You drive a hard bargain, Potter."   
"Well?"   
"Fine. I agree. Hugs at the maximum."   
Harry nodded and Draco relaxed into the hug.   
"This may just demonstrate to me that you are an idiot, but since I know that fact already, what about the Dark Lord?"   
"Oh. Um…"   
"Don't worry. I don't intend to serve him."   
"Why?"   
"Potter, you idiot. He's male. A dominating, violent male."   
Harry laughed at Draco's disgusted expression and allowed that answer to pass. Draco shifted and hooked his chin over Harry's shoulder, tightening the hug. It was warm. Harry was willing. He could make do with just hugs. He hoped. 

  
Ron had made a promise to himself to be more responsible about Harry. He had to admit that he wasn't really much of a friend during the Triwizard Tournament and it was up to him to be there for Harry. So, when he woke up one night and saw Harry disappearing underneath his Cloak, his first response was to chalk it off as just Harry's wandering habit. Then the next thought was to wonder why Harry didn't tell him and then he got suspicious and then he resolved that he couldn't leave Harry alone to wander around, especially not now. He went over to Harry's trunk and rummaged around slowly so none of the other boys would wake up. Luckily, Harry didn't take the Marauders' Map with him. Ron watch in disbelief as Harry's dot appeared to head straight toward a room with Malfoy's dot inside. The whole situation screamed intervention needed. So Ron folded up the map and putting his robe over his pajamas, went to find Harry. 

"How are you feeling today?"   
Harry took off his pajama top and set it beside the cloak.   
"Exasperated."   
"Why?"   
"Zabini's been showing off that hot Latin side of his family lately. I hate him. He's very distracting."   
Harry rolled his eyes and laid face down on the couch. Both of them found that allowing Draco to give Harry massages was a far more productive thing to do, both intimate and yet safely chaste. Draco began working on Harry's shoulders.   
"I wonder. Isn't there some way to get your senses to go down? Some potion or something?"   
"You disgust me, Potter. Being part Veela wasn't supposed to be a problem to be cured. Like a werewolf."   
"Well, I always thought you were a problem. Ow!"   
"Any other remarks and I'll pinch with both my hands."   
"Okay, okay! Touchy!"   
Draco began a brisk scratching up and down Harry's back.   
"The next stage of my Blossoming will be something, if I'm not done."   
"What happens?"   
"I get a beak and a pair of wings."   
"Will it hurt?"   
"With my lovely run of luck lately, I shouldn't wonder if it does."   
Draco paused.   
"Your hair bothers me. I'm going to brush it."   
"Won't do any good."   
"Humph. We'll see." 

Ron stopped just outside of the room and carefully peered in. He was expecting Harry and Malfoy to be dueling at least. He was certainly not expecting Malfoy to be trying to get a brush through Harry's hair or Harry to be just sitting there and accepting it. And where was Harry's pajama top?   
"Merlin, Potter. You can lose things in this mess."   
Harry jabbed his elbow backwards and caught Draco in the ribs. Draco winced and smacked Harry's head with the brush.   
"Jerk."   
"Sod."   
Ron waited for Harry to attack Malfoy. He didn't. Malfoy returned to brushing Harry's hair.   
"Does your father know?"   
"Of course not. You know what he would do with my powers. But I'm not a slave. I won't let him make me."   
Ron frowned at the strange conversation. Just what was going on?   
"Do you still like girls?"   
"I notice if they are attractive. But there is no desire."   
"So you're gay."   
"Call it what you want."   
Ron blinked. Weirder and weirder. When Harry lay down on his back and Malfoy began to work on Harry's chest, Ron began to wonder if he had eaten something wrong at dinner that night. This had to be a hallucination.   
"You. Are one fine specimen of male," Draco muttered.   
Ron gagged. How could Harry endure this? Ooooh. Nasty, dirty thoughts. Ew. Ew.   
"Flattery gets you no where."   
"Humph. Really, though. Get rid of your hideous glasses. You have a wholly beautiful face. Lovely shoulders… A great chest… Your abs are perfect…"   
Harry caught Draco's hands when they trailed below his bellybutton and held them away.   
"No."   
"Can't blame me for trying, can you?"   
Too much for his stomach. And his eyes. They were burning something awful. Ron ran. 

TBC 


	3. Draco the Brooder

Ron didn't know what to do. Harry was obviously keeping a lot of things secret from Hermione and him. Draco Malfoy was gay and Harry met up with him during the night. Ron felt very sick. But why meet with Malfoy? And let him touch him? And why would Malfoy want to touch him? So many questions and all were flying against the most reliable fact of Hogwarts life for Ron. Malfoy hated Harry. Harry hated Malfoy. Fact. It didn't make any sense. So he asked Hermione, careful to not tell her exactly what he had seen.   
"So you found out something Harry's not telling either of us?"   
"Yes."   
"Do you have any idea why he doesn't want us to know? Is it about You-Know-Who?"   
"No. At least, I hope not."   
"Ron!"   
"Well, he's not hurt. But he's been doing things."   
"What sorts of things?"   
Ron could feel his face turning pink. Arrgh.   
"Things that are probably why he doesn't want us to know about."   
"He's not drinking, is he? Smoking?"   
"No, Hermione!"   
"And you aren't telling me because it's Harry's secret and you found out by accident."   
"Yes."   
"I think we should wait until Harry decides to tell us himself, if it's so bad, judging from your reaction."   
"Oh, it's bad all right."   
"But not dangerous."   
"I don't know! I think it is, but you know Harry, danger follows him around. I bet he's gotten used to it, or something."   
"So it is dangerous?"   
"I don't know. I just don't like it."   
"Well, then, since you won't tell me what's going on," Hermione gave him a sharp glare, "Then you talk to Harry about it yourself." 

"Um, Harry?"   
"Yeah?"   
"You know how I said that whatever happens to you, I'd let you explain?"   
Harry glanced at Ron, a wary expression on his face.   
"Yes."   
"Well. Um. I've noticed that you get out of bed late at night. With the cloak."   
"I just couldn't sleep, that's all."   
Ron felt hurt. Harry was lying. About Malfoy, of course, but he was lying.   
"Harry… I know. About where you go."   
Ron took a deep breath.   
"And I want you to tell me why it's with Malfoy."   
Harry closed his eyes and he adjusted his glasses.   
"It's a long story."   
"Isn't everything a long story with us, Harry?"   
"You aren't mad?"   
"Confused. A little mad, yeah. But I did promise to listen."   
Harry smiled, relieved.   
"Okay. But it's Malfoy's secret too."   
"Just tell me what's going on." 

"So," Ron gulped, "You and him?"   
"Just that one time."   
"That. Is so. Gross."   
Ron made flapping motions with his hands, as if to push away the thought that Harry and Malfoy had sex. He felt distinctly nauseous.   
"Believe me, I wasn't too happy when I woke up."   
"That is so weird. Like Fleur!"   
"Ron, you absolutely promise not to tell anyone? Not even Hermione?"   
"Duh! Nobody needs to know what you two did!" 

Harry and Ron were walking from History of Magic, when Harry stopped in his tracks.   
"Ron?"   
"Hm?"   
"Malfoy needs to see me."   
"How do you know?"   
Harry was staring at the floor.   
"Oh. Oh, ew! He's sending you horny vibes!"   
"Ron!"   
They rounded a corner and Malfoy was waiting. When he saw Ron, Harry could see him frown with annoyance and turn around to avoid being seen with them. He ran and caught the edge of Malfoy's sleeve.   
"Get your filthy hands off me, Potty."   
"Malfoy. He knows."   
Draco whirled around and scowled at Ron.   
"What!?"   
Harry nodded.   
"Potter, you promised not to tell!" Draco growled.   
"I didn't! He found out by accident!"   
Draco didn't look any less upset. He stepped up to Ron.   
"You had better not let a word of this out, got it? If you do, I'll not be held responsible for what happens!"   
"Harry's my friend, Malfoy. I'll keep the secret for him, not you."   
Malfoy snorted.   
"That fine Gryffindor sense of honor is good for something, then. Make sure you keep your mouth shut."   
Draco turned his head to look at Harry.   
"Tonight. I have a study session this Saturday."   
He walked away and Ron rolled his eyes.   
"Prat."   
"I know." 

Harry found an agitated Draco pacing their meeting room.   
"Zabini being troublesome again?"   
Draco glared.   
"No. Much worse."   
Harry flopped onto the couch. Draco began the rubdown.   
"Well?"   
"Disgusting, gross…" Draco muttered.   
"What?"   
"Weasley. Is-"   
"Don't insult Ron!"   
Draco sneered.   
"Incredibly hot."   
Harry blinked. And blinked.   
"Excuse me. But I thought I heard you say Ron was incredibly hot."   
"Yes. You heard me. I just realized what a tasty hunk of man meat Weasley is. I feel nauseated to the extreme."   
"Uh… Why?"   
Draco punched a pillow in frustration.   
"A Weasley. It's ironic. I've always felt Weasleys are inferior and completely common."   
Harry rolled his eyes and settled down for a long rant.   
"And dirty. Very dirty."   
He continued to list all the shortcomings of the Weasley line for some time. Harry suppressed a yawn. Draco sighed disconsolately.   
"Weasley, that git, just oozes ripe male virility. I can smell it. Now I know why Weasleys breed like rabbits. It's impossible for a woman to just have sex with a Weasley male once with all that sheer masculinity they have."   
Harry was struck by the absurd incongruity of what Draco just said with one Percy Weasley.   
"You will not laugh at me, Potter!"   
"Sorry. It wasn't you. Just…"   
Harry collapsed into barely suppressed snickers.   
"I am not amused."   
"But it doesn't make any sense," Harry sobered, "Ron can't get any dates. And Fleur rejected him for Davies."   
"She was how much older than him? And really, Potter, he was just a lot of noise with freckles on it back then. Now…"   
Draco gritted his teeth.   
"He's so masculine. Unbelievable."   
"So you like him now?"   
"That's the point. I don't like him. He's boorish, loud, entirely disrespectful…"   
"Well, he can say plenty of things about you, you know."   
"But such raw maleness," Draco ignored Harry, "Is just rare. Rare I tell you, and I want him, and I don't want to want him! I hate this!"   
Harry winced, as Draco's hands had ceased massaging and were beginning to clench into his ribs.   
"Careful. I'm not made out of clay, you know."   
"Yes, well, Weasley's too much. Touching you isn't making me feel any better."   
"Oh. So what do you want me to do?"   
"Deliver him to my bed wrapped in a ribbon."   
"Uh…"   
"Just shut up and don't ask any more questions. I don't need to make any more embarrassing statements in your presence." 

"Harry?"   
"Yeah?"   
"Where'd my other T-shirt go? I just wore it two days ago."   
"Laundry maybe?"   
Ron shook his head.   
"I didn't put it in the hamper."   
Harry was glad Ron went to ask the other boys. He was sure his face would give him away. Right now Draco was probably inhaling Ron's body odor off of the T-shirt like a cat working on a bag of catnip. He really didn't want to explain that Draco convinced him to steal the T-shirt for him. 

Their weekly massaging sessions by necessity caused Draco and Harry to cease being rancorously hateful to each other in public. Of course, that didn't stop Draco from being detestable on principle or Harry from wanting to brain him with his cauldron in Potions. People noticed this détente between Potter and Malfoy and the reactions ranged from disappointed to relieved. Draco's habits also changed radically. He began to isolate himself, disappearing into the library or going alone to areas of the castle that held little interest to the rest of the students. His self-imposed exile created a vacuum in the Slytherin power structure, but it was quickly filled without too much fuss. Some speculation abounded, but if Draco wanted to be a recluse it was his decision. For his part, he had more important things to brood about than being in a social limbo. Such as how Ron's long limbs held the promise of lovely strength and endurance in certain intimate situations. Alone in a secluded section of the library, he would sit and gently run his fingers through pages of the finest vellum, soft and supple, like skin. The whisper of pages being turned echoed the way clothes rustle as they drop off their owner's body. He would remember the ragged sound Ron's angry, impassioned voice took on. Once, his fist had bloodied Ron's nose. Before that moment, when adrenalin and malice overcame breeding and he forsook his wand, he remembered long fingers clenching tight, narrowed and furious lapis lazuli eyes, like illuminated pages, and lips curled into a fighting grimace. Ron had leapt forward with a yell and they grappled. Draco couldn't remember if it was in the Quidditch stands or the hallways. Madam Pince frowned at his restive moan. 

"Partner up. Mr. Weasley, you will be with Malfoy today. Let's see if Potter can actually make a potion without you."   
Draco was beginning to suspect that Snape was plotting against him. It certainly wasn't a favor to have Weasley standing next to him. Draco watched as Ron scowled at Snape's turned back before moving his cauldron next to his.   
"I won't let you make me do all the work," he whispered.   
Draco's lips tightened. Merlin, he sounds positively erotic whispering!   
"I should think not. You weren't paying any attention," he snapped.   
Draco was chopping up lizard tails in an exceptionally violent manner. Ron edged away slightly and began grinding up his beetle eyes. Draco was beginning to worry. At this rate, he could grind his teeth away from tension! He dumped the lizard tails into the boiling water of his cauldron and sighed as the stink covered up some of the more obvious smells coming from Ron. He dumped the rest of the lizard tails into Ron's cauldron. Ron looked at Draco incredulously.   
"Why did you do that?"   
"It is the first ingredient, Weasley."   
"Why'd you give them to me?"   
Draco took a deep breath.   
"Because, Weasley, how would it reflect on me, if you fail as my potions partner?"   
Ron frowned.   
"Oh, is that it?"   
"Just add the Jobbernoll feathers already, Weasley."   
When they were done, Snape could find no fault in their potions.   
"Well, how unprecedented. I did not expect Mr. Weasley to leech off so much from you, Mr. Malfoy."   
"He did not leech from me, Sir."   
Ron looked again in disbelief at Draco. Snape raised a single eyebrow.   
"Really?"   
Draco shrugged.   
"It is more efficient if we really worked at the potion, Sir."   
Snape snorted and grudgingly nodded before moving on to the next cauldron.   
"Twenty points to Slytherin."   
Harry had noticed their interaction, with some amusement. 

TBC 


	4. Always knew he'd look good in feathers

"Malfoy?"   
Draco glared and resisted the urge discharging all of the pheromones he had in his arsenal. Ron Weasley was talking to him, and it wasn't in class.   
"What?"   
"Harry's got extra practice because of the match with Ravenclaw coming up."   
"I was aware of that. What does he want?"   
Pity Weasley was only here as messenger.   
"Well… He'll have to miss tonight's meeting."   
Draco rolled his eyes.   
"I inferred that from his need for extra Quidditch practice. Honestly, you Gryffindors are so redundant."   
"I'm supposed to be his replacement."   
Draco stepped back.   
"You?"   
"Yeah."   
"This is not funny."   
"I'm not laughing, Malfoy. So when am I supposed to be there?"   
I'm going to kill you, Harry Potter. After I thank you. But I'm still going to kill you for this.   
"Around twelve. Be sure to finish your homework first, Weasley. And take a bath."   
"Hey!" 

  
Going to touch him, going to touch him, oooh, touch me, touch me, yes…   
Draco's eyes fluttered shut as he teased his erection. He could feel the warm tension of an orgasm coiling tight. Mustn't embarrass himself with Ron, no... Draco shuddered and fell back into the couch, waiting until his breathing was steady before moving to clean himself off. He checked his watch. Five minutes till twelve. He stretched, a slow smile spreading over his face. 

  
"I am not going to take my shirt off!"   
"Well, judging from the shape that it's in, one rub will tear it into shreds. Take off your shirt!"   
"No!"   
"And just what did you expect when you came here? A cup of tea? I need physical contact here!"   
Ron was steadfastly keeping his arms crossed. Draco brandished his wand.   
"Fine. I'll get it off the easy way. _Divestio_!"   
Ron yelped as his shirt whipped off his body and folded itself up on a desk.   
"Hey!"   
"Now come over here."   
Ron wasn't moving. Draco scowled.   
"Just perfect. Harry shouldn't have bothered."   
A devious expression came to Draco's face and Ron nervously shifted.   
"Weasley, if you don't obey me, I'll make you."   
"What? No! You wouldn't!"   
"Really? How about I make you-"   
"Okay! Okay! Just don't do anything like that!"   
Ron edgily laid face down on the couch. He could hear Draco muttering to himself about the idiocy that was Harry Potter. He recoiled when Draco laid his palms on the small of his back.   
"Where is that Gryffindor courage, hmm? Harry wasn't this skittish!"   
"Yeah, well, you did him!"   
Ron could hear a sigh from Draco.   
"Get the facts straight, Weasley. Harry did me. Not the other way around."   
Ron's eyes popped open.   
"What?"   
"You are aware that Veela are female, yes?"   
"Yeah."   
"So I'm part Veela."   
"So?"   
Draco shook his head. Hot body, slow on the uptake. Thank Merlin he'd endured worse with Crabbe and Goyle. Best put this as crudely as possible.   
"So how am I supposed to appreciate good cock if it isn't up my arse?"   
That did it. Ron sputtered and sort of half fell, half rolled off the couch and onto the floor in shock.   
"Oww…"   
Draco suppressed a smile.   
"Lovely. Now that you are hurt, I get to rub your pains away."   
Ron gave Draco a baleful look before clambering back onto the couch.   
"You didn't need to say that, you know."   
"So I was instinctually thinking more like a female than a male that night. What of it?"   
Ron clapped his ears shut with his hands.   
"No more details!" 

  
Later, Ron had to admit that Draco knew how to give a good backrub. He drifted off into a semi-sleep. When he placed his hands on Weasley's back the first time, Draco was struck by how warm Weasley was. Harry wasn't a reptile, but Weasley was hot. Literally. Draco was glad he'd thought to take care of himself before Ron showed up. And the differences between the two friends were marked. Draco knew, everybody knew, that Weasley was one of the tallest boys in their year. But the fact that it Draco had to stretch farther to smooth down muscles from one end of Ron's back to the other was exhilarating. He knew, up close and personal. Harry's skin was pale, with maybe a hint of brown where sun had tanned him during Quidditch practice. Ron was a shade of pink, speckled liberally with freckles. Interestingly enough, the reddish hairs visible on his body gave a burnished shine when the candlelight flickered in a certain way. Weasley was shiny. Draco suppressed a snicker. He liked shiny things.   
Ron opened his eyes. Draco's rhythm was broken. His hands were still and a small gasp could be heard.   
"Malfoy?"   
There was no reply. Ron slowly turned his head and looked at Draco. Draco's eyes were closed, his mouth twisted into a grimace. Without warning, he collapsed on Ron.   
"Hey!"   
Ron shook Draco off and belatedly realized that Draco was unresponsive and in a high pitch of fever. He was trembling and his hands had closed into fists. A strong shudder passed through his body and Ron watched as Draco reflexively curled into a fetal position.   
"What's wrong? Malfoy?"   
Draco was panting now and his eyes slowly opened, glassy and unseeing.   
"Malfoy, you are seriously freaking me out," Ron said. "We have to go to Pomfrey's."   
He tried to lift Draco up, but Draco twisted away.   
"No! Not the Infirmary!"   
Ron tried to protest, but a low screech issued from Draco's gaping mouth. Ron hastily cast a Silencing Charm on the room when Draco began to shriek louder and louder.   
"Are you sure?"   
Draco nodded once before another convulsion shook his body. Ron nervously sat down next to Draco. He wished Harry were here. At least he might know what was going on. He watched in amazement as Draco's face stretched forward into a sharp beak and his hair congealed into feathers. A wail of protest issued as two black wings, slender and leather sleek, erupted from Draco's back. Ron winced. His skin turned gray with another shudder and Draco's fingers roughened as scales emerged and armored his knuckles, wrists and forearms and his nails turned into heavy claws. Finally, it was over and Draco lay tired and aching on the couch, in his predatory Veela form. His eyes opened and they were a flat yellow, expressionless. He slowly sat up and experimentally opened and closed his clawed hands. His head pivoted like a bird and Ron was treated with a fierce unblinking gaze.   
"You changed," Ron managed.   
A rather ungainly squawk issued from Draco's beak. Ron jumped back and Draco clicked his beak closed, mortified. It was even worse that Ron was here to see him like this, like a beast. Draco opened his beak and another squawk issued. Annoyed, his crest of feathers puffed up on his head.   
"You can't talk can you?"   
Another squawk and Draco crossed his arms. Ron laughed. He looked like Hedwig when Pig was annoying her.   
"Can you change back?"   
Draco wasn't moving, just staring at Ron. Ron had smiled at Draco at his predicament and Draco's mind went blank. It was so bright and open and made Ron's face so completely handsome. He really couldn't help the nauseatingly awed coo that came from his beak. His wings snapped open and with a strong flap, crossed the distance between them and pushed Ron back onto the floor. Ron cried out in surprise and struggled. Now Ron was used to his brothers and because of them, knew how to roughhouse and wrestle like no one's business. To his complete shock Draco had him easily pinned. His scaly hands dug in uncomfortably into his shoulders. A soft coo came from Draco.   
"All right, I won't mention it again. Let me up."   
Draco had his beak propped on Ron's sternum. Oh, he was drunk on Ron's scent and it was all good.   
"Malfoy? Hey!"   
Draco blinked. His head was roughly pushed and with an aggrieved squawk he was shoved off and away from Ron's warmth. Ron was putting on his shirt.   
"So are you done Blossoming or what? By the way, it's a really stupid girly name for growing up, isn't it?"   
Annoyance made Draco's change back to his customary human form too fast and his head felt dizzy for a few seconds.   
"Veela are female, you dolt! Of course they'd give a glorified flowering reference to it!"   
Ron shrugged and buttoned his robes.   
"Bye."   
Draco collapsed on the couch. Yes, I'm definitely going to kill Harry bloody Potter for this. 

  
Draco was alone in the Prefects' Bathroom. He closed his eyes and concentrated and felt the singular tearing that was his wings cracking out of his back. He opened his eyes and stared at his image in the mirror. His Blossoming was complete. He now had a form capable of fighting, of keeping unwanted males at bay. He could feel it, this new inhuman strength that was his beak and claws, he will no longer be afraid again of men when he wasn't willing and his pheromone cloud got out of hand, never. He tried to remember his impressions of Veela from the Quidditch World Cup. They were frightful in this form. And they could conjure fire. He tried to do it, over and over again, but nothing responded in him, unlike the pheromone cloud. So his human blood nullified yet another Veela trait. Marvelous. 

He turned his head and looked at his profile. His yellow eyes blinked quickly and were hard with a mean raptor glint and even a bit imperial if he tilted his head a certain way. He could out-glare Lucius with this face. He felt strangely happy about this. He looked at the far end of the bathroom and discovered that he had binocular vision. Veela were a hunting breed. His beak did not have the sharp hook of an eagle, but was a blunt curve, like a raven's beak. He turned his head back and forth, testing the newly increased range. Like an owl, he could practically turn his head all the way around to see behind him. The grey feathers on his head swept away from his scalp in a crest and he found that he could flare it up at will, a display. A patch of down extended downward on his chest like a soft cravat. His hand claws were sharply curved, perfect for gripping, tearing. Not for caresses, these claws. Another change was his feet. From below his knees scales formed and overlapped down his calves, and his previously human feet were the toes and talons of a hunting raptor. The bones below his knees had lengthened, and he figured that he was at least a head or two taller than before. He experimentally walked back and forth. He had the haughty strut of a fighting rooster. Funny, that. He carefully extended his black wings. The light caught the deceptively thin membrane and they had a glossy sheen. They were unlike any wings he had seen before, naked and yet strong. They were not ribbed like bat wings and not remotely insect-like, the way fairy wings were. His wings were special. Later, Harry would muse that they resembled pterodactyl wings, whatever those were. Anyway, he could fly with these. If only I could control fire, then I would be like a real dragon, he thought. But being part Veela's more than enough. This was power. 

The door slammed open and so shocked Draco that his reaction was immediate. A hiss and he pounced, forcing the intruder on the floor. He drove his beak downward but a fist snapped his head back.   
"Draco!"   
Draco blinked. Harry was pinned to the floor, bleeding from where Draco's claws dug into his arms and his glasses askew. Draco quickly changed and stepped away from him.   
"You startled me."   
"Merlin this hurts. You've got a grip! Like being hit by a Bludger."   
Draco felt just a bit guilty about giving Harry cuts. But Harry was healing himself well enough with his wand.   
"What were you doing?"   
"Just looking at myself."   
"Vain prick, aren't you?"   
"Shut it."   
Draco went to find his bathrobe.   
"I'm just figuring out my Veela body, that's all."   
"And what, pray, did you find out?"   
"It's strong and I can kick you to next Tuesday with it. So there."   
"I'm not afraid of a plucked chicken."   
"What did you say?"   
Harry quirked his mouth. Draco's face twisted.   
"You sod!"   
Draco snapped back into his secondary form and leapt at Harry. Harry ducked Draco's claws but was slapped by Draco's wildly flapping wings. They kept this up, Harry running circles around the bath, flinging hexes and curses over his shoulder, and Draco diving and learning how to use his wings, both yelling in laughter and mock anger. Or in Draco's case, making a variety of aggressive bird noises. Finally, Harry pushed Draco over the bath with a mobilicorpus and Draco's wings gave out, too tired from dodging hexes. The bath echoed with his enraged shriek as he hit the cold water, shocking him back to his human form. Harry laughed, still pointing his wand at Draco as he floundered, choking out how he loathed, despised, hated him and that he'll be sorry. And he ruined a perfectly good silk and cashmere bathrobe, to boot!   
"Hey, you were the one who ripped it up popping your wings out!"   
"Doesn't matter. It's all your fault."   
Draco was glaring at the remains of said bathrobe. Harry had by now stripped and was in the bath, scrubbing on soap.   
"You know, Draco, if it weren't for the fact that I know that you don't want to have sex with me anymore, I'd say you were peeping."   
"Shut up. I am not peeping. I've seen it all, anyway."   
"So why are you still here?"   
Draco shrugged and sat at the edge of the bath, dangling his legs into the water.   
"I suppose I feel like I need the company."   
"Oh. I'll let you give me a massage after I'm done then."   
Draco rolled his eyes.   
"Not that kind of company."   
Harry shrugged and dunked under the water. He came back up and leaned against the side of the bath.   
"Then what?"   
"Just talk. Just give me something to think about other than classes and homework and what my dear," he sneered, "Father would do to me if he ever found out."   
Harry blinked, thinking.   
"By the by. You still have a handsome face."   
"Urgh."   
Draco smirked.   
"Okay. Ron told me about what happened the first time you changed."   
"What of it?"   
"He didn't see anything unusual about it. He figured you weren't quite human to know what you were doing. He never notices things if it's not about chess or quidditch. But I noticed things about his story. You're barely in control of yourself around him, aren't you?"   
"Barely."   
"I shouldn't have given you his T-shirt."   
Draco just looked at Harry.   
"I don't want you going after Ron."   
Draco bristled.   
"And why should I listen to you?"   
"Because Ron is my friend and I don't want him hurt the way he will be once you're done with him-"   
"How dare you insinuate that!"   
Harry reached out and found his glasses. He put them on, sliding them up his wet nose and holding them there. He calmly looked at Draco.   
"But that's the way it is, isn't it? Some other manlier guy comes along and Ron's history with you. I can deal with what we did; it's just your Veela magic. You didn't mean to. But you will mean to if you do it to Ron, and he'll be hurt. He's my friend and I don't want you to even think about trying. If you do, I'll make sure you regret it, and I don't want to do that either."   
"Well, I haven't put him under thrall, haven't I?"   
"Keep it that way and keep away from Ron. Give me his T-shirt back."   
Draco looked away.   
"You're convincing. But I'm not going to."   
"Why?"   
"It's true. Weasley has nothing but his scent. But I don't want it to stay that way."   
Draco's hands clasped on his lap and he looked at Harry.   
"I want Weasley to be my exclusive interest. There. I admit it."   
"Must have been a trying ordeal."   
"I'm serious and you are making fun of me!"   
Harry held up his hands in a placating manner.   
"No, I'm not. It's just sudden, you know. I wasn't expecting you to admit it at all." 

  
Of course that git wasn't expecting him to admit it. Draco wasn't expecting to admit it. But it happened. Draco excused it as temporary desperation, because Harry was sitting there, calm as anything and telling him with that damned Serious Hero Voice that he would do something Justifiably Drastic if he didn't leave Ron alone. And Draco knew he just couldn't leave Weasley alone. His epiphany the day he stepped within range of Weasley to snarl threats and was hit with a whiff of Pure Male instead was this: I Want That One! And he wasn't about to let Harry Potter dictate to him that he couldn't have what he wanted. So he made a commitment. Merlin, he'd made a commitment! To Ron Weasley! 

Why did Weasley have to exude that maddening scent? The kind that was dark as chocolate, cloying as spice, and charged like the air just before a storm? Why did he have to get dizzy just by standing near him, why did he get that kick of adrenalin? Why did he have to feel so absurdly glad to see him sitting at the Gryffindor table every morning? 

Blood wasn't an issue anymore, thanks to his instinct to attract any suitable male at all. So Ron being Pureblood himself wasn't even a factor. Right now, his thought processes concerning other boys was this: would he want to touch them? Would he want them to touch him? So he tried to find things in Ron's favor compared to other boys. His looks. Ah, his looks. Draco recalled the other Weasley males that he knew for sure. The Twins, that twitty Headboy. Come to think of it, the twins were delish, all muscle and grins. But he didn't want to concentrate on that. Ron was not drop dead gorgeous. Potter had looks that befitted his Hero of the World status, and well, he was a part Veela, so of course he was a looker. Zabini was Latino hot, Boot had dimples to kill for and hey, even that idiot Finch-Fletchly had some appeal. But Weasley was distressingly not gorgeous. But he was tall. And you know what they say about tall men… Draco abruptly snapped out of his libidinous train of thought. Not helpful. Was he intelligent? Judging from his rather unimaginative methods of trying to beat the snot out of him when they were younger every time Draco insulted them, he would say not. And he could not recall a single instance when a Professor would give Ron points. Depressing. But what was he expecting? If he wanted clever, he could have fixated on a Ravenclaw. What about his personality? Well, all he knew of Weasley's personality was when he was angry, which he went out of his way to incite. An angry Weasley was loud, profane, and violent. A corollary therefore, a horny Weasley was… Draco chuckled. Fun. But not sophisticated nor conducive to a good conversation outside of the bedroom. 

So that was it. He was committed to pursue a male who other than his scent, was not smart, not gorgeous, not even personable. Draco sighed. It would have saved a lot of trouble he could just go back to wanting Harry. But Harry was immune to his pheromones and that took away the point of being part Veela. Besides, he just wasn't the same as Ron. Sure, he was Harry Potter. That meant nothing on the primal level that Draco was operating on. Harry's pheromones were no more distinctive than the rest of the Hogwarts boys. Ron was like wine to cider in comparison. And Malfoys only had the best. Vowing to kill Harry Potter just wouldn't cut it for this time. But neither was using his powers of coercion. It had been very tempting. But he did remember how it was with Harry. Neither one of them would talk about it, analyze it, but the fact remained that it was not something either had any say in. He shuddered slightly at the memory. Harry's eyes went blank and he advanced with a single-minded force that was overwhelmingly sexy and scary at the same time. Draco had never seen anyone, much less Harry, like that. Harry was reduced to a common denominator of lust and it was not pretty. It was hurried, with pain involved. But it didn't matter then, because Draco himself was affected. The fever needed diminishing and Harry was there. He instinctually needed to receive what Harry could sexually give and that was it. Pain or not, Draco eked out pleasure from the encounter and really, Harry wasn't too bad a person to lose one's virginity to. The entire thing was such a sordid affair that he couldn't do that to Ron. It would just be a lot of mindless rutting. And wonder of wonders. He didn't want mindless rutting with Weasley. 

TBC 


	5. What I like about you

"Why am I not surprised that you decided to drag her into this?"   
Draco was sitting with his arms crossed on the couch. He was giving a frigid look he learned from Lucius to Hermione, who was resolutely staring back.   
"Harry told me about your situation."   
Draco's lips compressed.   
"And because this situation involves my two best friends-"   
"Yes, yes," he snapped, "You can stop now. What are you going to do?"   
Relieved, Harry sat down next to Draco and took off his shirt so that Draco could begin a back rub. Hermione ignored this, turning to a stack of parchment she brought with her.   
"I've done some research-"   
"Which books?"   
Hermione handed Draco the list.   
"Comprehensive," Draco reluctantly admitted, "I don't know some of these books."   
Hermione gracefully accepted the compliment.   
"They are research on animal behaviors."   
"I am not an animal!"   
"Let her talk," Harry mumbled into a couch pillow. Draco gave a mechanical pinch to Harry's side.   
"Shut up, you."   
Harry whipped the pillow from under his head and hit Draco with it. Hermione rolled her eyes.   
"Boys."   
Both glared at her.   
"All right, now that we are back on the pertinent subject, I think there is a way for Malfoy to ignore Ron and other boys."   
"How?"   
"First, I have to know how the Veela magic works. You will have to tell me."   
Draco shrugged.   
"I feel aroused, I discharge a sort of cloud."   
Hermione wrote that down on a piece of parchment.   
"Can you see the cloud?"   
"No."   
"Then how do you know it's a cloud?"   
"I can sense it."   
"Smell?"   
"Close enough."   
"The cloud is completely under your control?"   
"Yes. Usually it is. I don't discharge the magic in my sleep. But it gets harder if I go for long periods of time without discharging it."   
"Hmm. I need more information. The books don't say how this works."   
"It doesn't work on females, obviously."   
"Gender based. Interesting. Is there anything else you can control about the cloud?"   
"I can make it so that I can attract certain individuals."   
Hermione took this all down.   
"What about how you decide which males are desirable or not?"   
"Like a girl does, I expect. Looks, personality."   
"Money and background not a part of the selection?"   
"No. Oddly enough. I like half-bloods and muggle-born now."   
Hermione noted the change in his references. No Mudblood. Good.   
"Why?"   
"It's not important to me at all. I don't know why."   
"So this is instinctual and not social. Despite this, you prefer Ron over others, right?"   
Draco nodded.   
"Why? He is the least likely person, other than Harry, for you to like."   
"He smells masculine."   
"Explain."   
"He smells better than all of the other boys in Hogwarts. It's a strong smell."   
"He takes baths regularly, Malfoy."   
"Not body odor. It's…" Draco waved his hand in the air. "Different."   
"Sounds familiar actually. I have to check some of my other books."   
Hermione stood up.   
"I'll have to tell you that the prospect of you going after Ron is very disturbing to me. However, given your personality and his personality, I will withhold all further judgment in favor of being amused. Good night."   
Draco sneered.   
"Harry, you idiot." 

  
Hermione wasn't expecting to help Draco Malfoy. In fact, helping Malfoy was just as unlikely as her meeting a talking chicken. And considering that this was Hogwarts, meeting a talking chicken had better odds of occurring. After Ron's disjointed description of Harry's secret, she was prepared to do some mediating between them. If they got into a fight over whatever Harry was doing, which they would, being boys, then she would be around to put them back to rights, with some sound advice and sober sensibility. And if that didn't work, she'd yell about them being immature and guilt-trip them into submission. Never let it be said that being a girl and friends with two boys wasn't an exercise in patience. 

She was not expecting this at all. Harry wasn't a virgin anymore. Which wasn't a very charitable thing to be amazed about, but considering how he was just the shy adoring type and not the jump 'em and hump 'em type of guy, she deserved her ignoble jaw drop. And Ron was taking Draco's Veela characteristics on stride, which as also amazing. Later, he would admit that he always suspected that Malfoy wasn't quite human and this just proved it. When Ron jumped to conclusions, he could win in the Olympics. As it was, he was right this time, and this remarkable event outweighed the fact that Draco was now gay and had Ways of Persuading Heterosexual Males to Cooperate. And the biggest surprise was that Malfoy desired Ron. Apparently Malfoy wasn't too happy about this, which was refreshingly normal, and wanted that to be fixed. This was a true problem, since his desire seemed to be hardwired into his biological processes, but Hermione did love a good problem to solve. And how hard could it be? 

  
Very difficult. Harder than a bloody Rubik's Cube and she finished that when she was seven years old in less than four hours. She eventually figured out that Malfoy's "cloud" was a series of pheromones and that he had the ability to sense pheromones. So she tried to fix his predicament by putting hexes on him that took away his sense of smell. Though it kept him from being distracted by other males when Ron wasn't around, it didn't take away his attraction, making Ron the only male on his mind. He suffered for about a week before he broke down. He was wailing like a distraught Greek chorus. It was a tragic scene.   
"I feel like I've got a cold, my head aches and he looks so very good… I'm drooling! How dare you make me do that! Granger, I hate you! Take these spells off! Now!"   
He immediately retreated to the sanctuary of his bed to snort up the aromas from Ron's T-shirt. Harry was gaining a measure of tact because after that failure, he didn't say anything. Apparently, unless she also took away his sight and hearing, Draco was going to have no peace with Ron around. And even then, Draco's Male Imagination wasn't going to leave him alone either. Which was the big puzzle because Ron was nothing special. Well, sure, she did have a bit of a crush on him, but she was quickly cured of that after their spat about the Yule Ball. He was possessive, irrational and juvenile. Not very attractive traits when looking for a partner, though tolerable in a friend.   
Later, Harry suggested that maybe the problem shouldn't be solved. Hermione was horrified. Let their friend be stalked by Malfoy? It was scary enough that he possessed Ron's T-shirt to do who knows what lewd acts with in the privacy of his bed. Harry blinked, blushed, but resolutely kept a straight face. Being Hero of the Wizarding World taught you how to perfect the Resolute Face. It was useful, dealing with Draco on withdrawl and an anxious Hermione.   
"Look at it this way. He's not a prejudiced bigot anymore, isn't he?"   
"That's because he's daydreaming about jumping their bones. When he isn't fantasizing about Ron."   
"Er. Yeah. But he's not such a big nuisance anymore. He's a better person."   
"He's a menace. If he had his way, he'd be having sex all willy-nilly."   
Harry sighed.   
"Hermione, most boys want to have sex willy-nilly. Draco just mentions it more often to you because you like guys too, and somehow you can relate. I think."   
"Bad form, if you ask me. And why Ron? Why does everything have to happen to us?"   
"You never complained before."   
"Yes. But that was because we had important things to worry about. This is all so… depraved."   
"I'd take this over Voldemort any day, actually."   
Hermione grudgingly nodded.   
"I don't think this is too bad, considering that Draco does only want Ron. If we don't find a cure, and I don't think we can, then we should wait so that Draco can stop liking Ron on his own."   
"Are you sure?"   
"Why not? I don't like Cho Chang that much anymore. You haven't seen Viktor in a while and you did say that it just didn't work out between you two. And well… It's not like he's in love, right?"   
"What about Ron? This means that you are allowing Draco to pursue him. What if he finds out?"   
"Then he can reject him for himself, can't he? On the other hand…" Harry shrugged. "Ron might cooperate."   
"Harry, he's not gay."   
"I don't know. Draco's vague enough now, anything can happen."   
"Harry, I hope you do know how ridiculous you just sounded." 

  
Draco was silent as he massaged Harry. Harry opened his eyes.   
"You're scheming."   
"Has Ron's opinion changed of me?"   
Huh. He's actually thinking over this. Must rethink his intentions then.   
"Not much. You'll always be 'that ferrety git' to him."   
"Then it's a waste of my time isn't it?"   
"Has your opinion changed of him?"   
"The more I just listen, overhear your inane conversation with him, the more I feel…"   
"Yeah?"   
"Completely out of his circle."   
"You are. You always rubbed it in our faces how much better you are, how much richer, how much-"   
"Shut up."   
"Sorry."   
"He is a Chudley Cannons fan, for reasons I cannot imagine. How can I relate to one who supports losers?"   
"You said that I was on the wrong side, Draco. Which side are you on now?"   
"It's different. I would be… a thing… to the Deatheaters. Father would see me as nothing as a tool. A way to get closer to the Dark Lord. And Mother? It is only because of her diluted blood that she would be in no danger and because she is the most Slytherin girl out of all her Year. She would not be harmed, she would not allow herself to be cornered. But me? My powers aren't human. Didn't you read anything Granger gave you?"   
"Veela are neutral beings, Draco."   
"But it is too easy to see how I would be used. What man can think or fight if I force feed my pheromones," he stumbled slightly over this new Muggle word, "on them?"   
"You don't care about your potential victims, Draco, don't try to tell me that. You are just running."   
"I look out for myself. It's Slytherin."   
"Then why look out for yourself with a bunch of losers?"   
Draco shook his head.   
"I think you have some hope," Harry announced.   
Draco laughed.   
"Hope? Hope is a Gryffindor trait."   
"That's right. It is. And Ron is very proud of being a Gryffindor."   
Draco's hands stilled.   
"What are you doing?"   
"I am making you realize that all that Slytherin cunning you talk about, the Hat sings about, is all useless unless there's something behind it. You've figured out how to keep yourself away and alive for now. Isn't there something more important for you to be studying, planning?"   
"Ron."   
"If he's really that important, then I don't see why you can't find a way."   
"Tell me why he's obsessed about the Cannons."   
"No. You tell me why you think he's obsessed with the Cannons. I'll tell you if you're right."   
"You difficult bastard."   
"You need the exercise. And isn't it more fun this way?"   
"How do you know so much about Slytherin?"   
"You get Ron willingly and maybe I'll tell you." 

  
Maybe I'll tell you, Draco snorted. Since when did Harry ever have any inside information that he really wanted? Since Ron became the center of his dreams, that's when. Draco sighed. Weeks of closely watching Ron made him come to the conclusion that Ron was attractive physically on his own merits. It wasn't how his face was put together, though luckily enough, he wasn't lopsided or blighted with something ghastly like an unibrow. No, it was the expressions on his face. That endearing smile, that fierce scowl, the way his eyebrows quirked when he was confused. Those were what made Ron handsome. Previously, it was precisely Ron's expressiveness that made him such a joy to torment. Now, it made him the first person Draco thought about in the morning and the last in the night. 

  
"Weasley."   
"What do you want?"   
"Harry's a good Seeker. Bloody awful chess player. Don't you agree?"   
Ron mumbled something rude under his breath. Draco bit back his retort and continued to be polite.   
"But he did say that you are capable, at least. He even says that you are good. But then, he's so bad, anybody except Crabbe and Goyle could be termed good."   
"Do you have anything you really want to say? Because if you don't I'll be going to Hogsmeade."   
"I want to prove Harry wrong. You aren't a good chess player."   
"What?"   
"I said that you can't be that good of a chess player."   
"You're wrong."   
"Not about this."   
"Oh yeah?"   
"Yes."   
Ron snorted.   
"Fine then. One game and I'll wipe the floor with you. In the massage room."   
"Good." 

  
Later in bed, Draco cooed in satisfaction as he sniffed at Ron's T-shirt. Ron was smart. Admittedly, selectively smart, but smart nonetheless. Which was a very good thing, because it meant that he could have some involved conversation with him. And Ron concentrating, planning, playing to win, was just nearly the sexiest thing he could do with Draco watching. And he would never have seen this side of Ron if Harry hadn't stuck his interfering Gryffindor nose in. And that smile of triumph was spine tingling in intensity and beauty. This was very, very good. Chess with Ron. Coo, strip chess with Ron… Coooooo. 

  
"Harry?"   
"Yeah?"   
"Why is Malfoy paying attention to me?"   
"He's always bothered the three of us especially."   
"But… It's different this time."   
Harry nodded.   
"He's a git, Harry, don't you forget it, and now he's asking me things-"   
"What things?"   
"Playing chess with him."   
"Oh. Is he bad?"   
"He's the best opponent I've had in a while."   
"So what's the problem?"   
"He's Draco Malfoy!"   
"Oh. So that's it. Well, tell him that it's been fun, but no thanks."   
"I can't do that."   
"Why?… Okay, yell insults and punch him in the face, and then he should stop trying to play chess with you."   
"Harry!"   
Harry's mouth twitched until it looked like it was trying to climb up the side of his face.   
"You aren't being serious!"   
"Yes, I am. You are right, you can't just say thanks but no thanks, it's not your style, so you would go and punch him in the face-"   
"Harry, if you don't stop that right now…"   
Harry gurgled. It was supposed to be a giggle or a chuckle but couldn't make up its mind.   
"What's so bad about playing chess with Draco?"   
"He's the enemy!"   
"Of who?"   
"Us!"   
"Ron, you're overreacting again. Take deep breaths. Maybe I can transfigure this parchment into a paper bag."   
"Huh? What for?"   
Harry's mouth was twitching again.   
"Harry!"   
"Ron, look. He's just trying to make up for being such a gormless jerk. So you get to humiliate him by winning over and over again. Isn't that a good thing?"   
"Yeah… Thanks."   
Harry waited until Ron left before breaking down completely. He laughed until he was ashamed of himself. Wow. No wonder Dumbledore was always so cheerful. Knowing stuff and being unhelpfully helpful was so much fun! 

  
So Ron was gradually being inured to Draco's presence. And once he thought about it, Malfoy was being more pleasant to him. Maybe Harry was right after all. And he was a good chess player. And then, Draco began to confide in him. He was distinctly uncomfortable about it.   
"Why should you be?"   
"You can't seriously trust me."   
"Oh? It's because I'm Slytherin, isn't it? But Ron," Draco smiled. "Who would ask you anything about me?"   
So Ron got to know some of the twists and turns that graced Draco's mind. Again, disturbing, because Draco spent a lot of time brooding about himself and the world of Hogwarts and all this he dumped on Ron's lap. He knew he was petty and selfish and those weren't qualities that would win Ron over. So he confessed and hoped that if Ron could understand just a little that these were things that he was not proud of. Not now. 

Ron didn't want to think that he and Draco had any understanding. Because Draco was mean, Draco was bad, and Draco was not a decent person. But then Draco would sometimes go around the massage room in his Veela form and then it was like dealing with Buckbeak, even Hagrid. They were special and different and lived by different rules. And by this association, Ron could find a way to tolerate Draco. Because Draco looked proper for the role of inhuman. That beak and those claws matched what meanness was. So it was manifest and Ron could understand. Or at least think that all that meanness came from needing to cut with words because Draco could not rend and slash with his claws and beak when he was just a plain boy. 

He watched Draco clicking his beak, passing his claws through the air with a calculating stare. His wings shivered and Draco would look out the window and Ron could see a hunger to go and drop through the sky. He seemed capable of it. There was that arrogant surety there; Ron only encountered before with Buckbeak. He could survive in the wild, could live in the Forbidden Forest, because he was strong and of Veela blood. And sometimes after Draco told Ron some other things that came to his mind, the longing would show that he wanted to leave. He wanted to be something other than Casualty to Slytherin Society. But then Draco would swivel his head away from the window and return to his human form and begin another game of chess. Ron wondered what it was that kept Draco from flying away. 

TBC 


	6. Into the Dark Black Forest

The changes in her son brought him closer to her. Narcissa carefully read the contents of his latest letter. Early on he had written that he would not be giving allegiance to the Dark Lord. This she understood. She had nothing to say to Draco on his choice because it was the way of Veela. Veela could not tolerate subjugation by men. Veela were the charmers, they were the ones in control, not the men. The Dark Lord was too powerful to fight against should he pay attention to Draco, so it was better this way to not be under the Dark Lord's control. Of course, she had no doubts as to Lucius' eventual reaction to this decision. So she quietly opened a personal Gringotts account for Draco, placed a deposit and sent him the key. She advised him to study hard as always and to be strong. She had always written this to him because there was nothing else to say between them, but now it had especial meaning; he had to be strong enough to go against his father and his wrath. It was inevitable. Draco was not going to produce heirs and that alone would guarantee Lucius' punishment. Of course there were ways to get Draco to cooperate, but they were not ways that Narcissa would allow to happen to her son. He was now more her son than Lucius' son by virtue of his Veela traits and Narcissa was bound by her own inhuman impulses to protect her own. Veela were supportive of each other in a male-dominated world for centuries. 

This latest letter brought news that he had found one male who captivated him above all others. This male was a Weasley. Disapproval was Narcissa's first reaction as a matter of course. A Weasley? They were very much beneath consideration for a Malfoy. But Draco had been uncharacteristically descriptive of Weasley's attractiveness. He was, barring lack of breeding or finances, a prize. Now Narcissa could not sense human male pheromones, only pheromones sent by Veela, which were used amongst them as communication. But she could understand, which was a surprise, her son's choice. And perhaps this was a far better choice than the one she herself made. The Veela partnership was to be in the Veela's control. Undoubtedly Draco was the superior one in this potential pairing. Narcissa herself was not in control of Lucius, not nearly as much as she should be and as a result, her son would be in danger from his own father. Regrettable, but Narcissa was not one for lingering on regrets. Draco must win over this Weasley. 

A Veela fights fiercest when their desired was in danger and those Muggle-loving Weasleys would have no shortage of enemies. The strength and fury gained by Draco through his protective impulses would stand him good stead against Lucius. 

  
"Draco. Draco!"   
Draco turned.   
"What is it?"   
Hermione paused for breath. She had run all the way to the library.   
"Your father. I saw him. He's here."   
"What?"   
"I think you should hide."   
Draco nodded.   
"Massage room."   
"No. It's not safe enough. You have to get out of here."   
"And where do you suggest?"   
"Hagrid's place. Your father definitely won't go there. He's gone to see Dumbledore about seeing you."   
"No. I won't go there."   
Hermione frowned.   
"Draco, you-"   
"I know just the place. Thank you for warning me."   
Draco packed his books into his bag and handed them to Hermione. And he left. Hermione was right. When Draco wasn't found in the library or in the Slytherin Common Room, a school wide search was put out for him. Filch reported nothing. Lucius continued to badger Dumbledore on his son's whereabouts. He wasn't leaving any time soon.   
"Where is he?" Harry asked, "He's not on the Map."   
"He isn't?"   
Harry shook his head. Just then, McGonagall came and told him that the Headmaster wanted to see him. Hermione and Ron looked at each other with worry. Harry sighed and went to follow McGonagall out.   
"They think he's got something to do with this?"   
"Of course. He's Harry Potter. But this won't help Malfoy find Draco."   
Ron bit his lip, thinking.   
"I think I know where he is."   
"Where?"   
"The Forbidden Forest."   
"But that's crazy!"   
"Best place for him to hide right now. He's part Veela, so he's practically a beast himself."   
"It's still very dangerous."   
"Believe me, I know." 

  
Lucius could not get any information from Harry, despite his threats. And Dumbledore dismissed him. Snape of course was suspicious and kept Harry after. Harry sighed. Funnily enough, he didn't mind. Must mean that Draco was really his friend now, because he wouldn't be enduring this otherwise. And he got to see how very angry Lucius was without undue risk. Which was a bonus. He was scary, but nothing compared to Snape in a rage. Of course, he could draw certain parallels between Lucius and Uncle Vernon, so Draco's decision to cut it and run was doubly understandable now. Only he had no idea where Draco was and no way to find him or tell him that his father was gone. Not that he could anyway, with Snape interrogating him. 

  
"Ron, this is a bad idea."   
"I have to go get him."   
Hermione shook her head.   
"We can tell Dumbledore and he can get Hagrid to go look for him."   
"But then he might have to tell Malfoy that Draco is back. I mean, he's gone missing right? And parents have to know. School policy, I bet. I know Dumbledore owled Mum and Dad when Ginny was taken."   
"But Malfoy wants to do something bad to Draco."   
"Well, Dumbledore can't stop him, he's Draco's father. I have to go. The less time he's stuck in the Forest, the better."   
"But you might be hurt. And didn't you say that you were never ever going in there again?"   
"This time's different."   
Ron put on the Invisibility cloak and headed out. He dropped it off at Hagrid's and went into the Forest. 

He began to remember exactly why he didn't want to go back into the Forbidden Forest after walking for about an hour. First of all, he couldn't call out Draco's name, because it might attract unwanted attention from things that could eat him. And of course Draco was hiding, so he wasn't going to be just waiting for him. But Ron wandered on. No point in leaving after just getting here. And Draco really needed to get back to Hogwarts. A twig snapped and Ron froze.   
"Draco?"   
No answer. Ron took out his wand. He began backing away slowly. No good. Whatever it was came crashing through the brush at him. He fired off as many Impedimentias as he could and ran. Just his luck, there were more things after him. He was running blind. Pincers snapped at his heels and he stumbled. He screamed and shot the thing's face with Incendio. A smell like burnt hair filled the air. Ron froze. Acromantula. Oh, shit. His mind went blank when he needed another curse. Just then, something dropped on top of the Acromantula and began to rip and tear. Other spiders attacked the newcomer and a pitched battle began. Ron took this chance to run. He could hear screeching behind him.   
He was disorientated. He rubbed his arms, which were scratched by brush and his heart was still beating too fast. He looked up, but the trees were thick and hid the sky from view. He began to look for a clearing. If he could just see the North Star, everything would be over. Just then, sharp claws dug into his shoulders. He yelled, twisted and punched. His attacker's maw split open.   
"Ron, you blasted, bloody fool. It's me!"   
Ron gasped.   
"You can talk!"   
Draco's yellow eyes blinked.   
"I wasn't about to let common parrots upstage me. I'm a Malfoy."   
Draco's contemptuous tone snapped Ron from all lingering panic. He snorted.   
"What are you doing here? I nearly got killed by some overgrown spiders back there because of you!" Draco continued.   
Draco's head feathers rippled with irritation.   
"That was you?"   
Draco snapped his beak in reply.   
"Uh...Thanks."   
"Answer my question."   
"I came looking for you."   
Draco was silent for a long time.   
"What?"   
"I came looking for you. Your father left and you didn't come back and I was worried-"   
"You were worried?"   
"We were worried. Harry hadn't gotten back yet, Snape's probably got him because he thinks he has something to do with this, and Hermione's watching your stuff, so I came to get you."   
Draco cooed. Ron came looking for him! Ron was worried for him!   
"Hey, are you hurt?"   
"Some cuts. Stupid spiders. What about you? Did they harm you?"   
"No. I tripped a couple of times, but it's nothing. We should be heading back."   
Draco nodded.   
"Pity. The Forest's not as bad as I remembered."   
"What do you mean not as bad? We nearly got eaten!"   
"Still not as bad. I saw something back in First Year. That was scary, scarier than some overgrown house pests. Now, I don't feel scared of anything."   
"Well, you can fly away from anything you can't cut open. Makes a difference."   
Draco nodded and moved to pick Ron up.   
"Hey! What are you doing?"   
Ron pulled away.   
"Taking you back. Fastest way is by air."   
Ron hesitated.   
"You sure you can lift me?"   
Draco clicked his beak.   
"Shut up and hold on. I'm stronger than you in this form, don't you forget."   
Ron nodded and allowed Draco to pick him up. He took a running start and his wings caught air. He strained and they lifted off, somewhat unsteadily. Ron felt a little woozy from left over adrenaline and the swooping flight of Draco. Draco cooed again. Ron was very warm. And he was as good as hugging him hanging on like this. This was turning out better than expected. They could see the shape of Hogwarts. They landed. Draco reluctantly set Ron on his feet.   
"I should say this before I forget. Thank you for looking for me. I wasn't expecting that."   
"Oh. Er… You're welcome."   
Draco extended his head forward and began to rearrange Ron's hair with his beak.   
"It's mussed."   
Ron was confused again, but he allowed Draco to preen. Another soft coo, Draco stepped back and they went back to the castle. 

  
"You look like you were dragged through a hedge backwards."   
"Master of the obvious, aren't you Mr. Potter?   
Harry snorted.   
"What did my father want?"   
Harry shrugged.   
"He wouldn't say. He just looked angry from the moment I saw him."   
"Could be any number of things then. Such as the fact that I haven't answered any of his letters."   
"Could be. How was the Forest?"   
"Dark. Quiet. Full of things I could kill and eat and things that could kill and eat me. But I was one of the more dangerous things. It was… liberating. Simple."   
"If push comes to shove, you'll go there?"   
"Only if Ron won't have me. Father doesn't matter."   
"Never thought I'd hear you say that."   
"Well, I've been enlightened. I need to do what I really want, not what Father wants. He obviously isn't looking out for my well being at all. And now that I can start getting what I want, I won't let him get in my way." 

TBC 


	7. In a giving mood

Draco found his new perspective in life strange and refreshing. It wasn't just how he regarded males as potential relationships, but a whole new way of thinking. Petty power wasn't important. Gossip wasn't important. And if that got in the way of what he needed to do to survive, it was definitely the first thing to go. He obeyed the new social order of the Wild. Only the strong survive. And this made him appreciate individual Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws, even Slytherin in ways he had never had before. House distinctions were an artificial social order that honed individuals to best survive depending on their most probable reactions to the world, playing to their strengths. So he lost that last bit of superiority he felt over the other Houses. And it did not bother him one bit. 

Perhaps the most defining moment in his new life would be the decision to leave his wand behind before he fled into the Forest. In Slytherin fashion, he quickly figured that using magic anywhere on Hogwarts grounds could conceivably be detected by Dumbledore and that was a liability that he did not need. With this, he firmly cemented his ties to his wild Veela instincts. 

He was forced to make use of his secondary form practically for the first time. His concerns were reduced to finding a temporary place to wait out his father, making sure that he wasn't eaten, and even looking for things to eat just in case he had to stay past dinner. He saw a deer passing under his perch and his thoughts were: Drop. Latch on. Twist neck. Kill. Eat. His eyes found the slow movement of a troll in the distance. He was immediately seized with the urge to fly high and away. He dispassionately allowed these feelings to pass without taking action. They were not as pressing as staying away from Lucius. 

He smelled the many scents of the Forest. He smelled the blood of a freshly killed rabbit somewhere, the piss marker of a fox's territory, and many other indefinable scents besides. He witnessed his first sunset. He never stayed out before so late and was awed by the sweep of orange, red and purple that steeped the sky like wine on silk. He watched a flight of bats swoop over the moon. Crickets sang and he sighed, blinking his eyes. Something screamed. His head swiveled toward the sound. That certainly wasn't a rabbit's death squeal. And then he smelt fear on the winds. It was Ron. And then there was nothing he would rather do but to fight to the death for him. Even if Ron wasn't going to appreciate it. That Ron even dared venture into the Forest for him filled him with inexpressible joy, a fervent possessiveness that he had to do something about. Soon. 

  
As the students filed out toward the train for the holidays, Hermione nudged Harry's shoulder.   
"Yon Slytherin has a lean and hungry look."   
Harry glanced toward where she was pointing. Ron was saying goodbye to Ginny; she was going home for the holidays. Draco was watching him, particularly interested.   
"Looks like he will be staying behind also," Hermione whispered. "Watch him."   
She had already said her goodbyes to Harry and Ron, and left with the crowd. Harry approached Draco.   
"You chose a good time."   
"It might be a waste in the end."   
Harry smiled.   
"I don't know. Holiday spirit and all. Ron might cooperate."   
"How do you Gryffindors do it? I fail to see how you can be so optimistic."   
"Same way Slytherin keeps on trying to win the House Cup, I expect."   
Draco rolled his eyes. 

  
They had just finished another chess game; Ron won. Draco was nursing a mug of hot chocolate.   
"What would you do, for a thousand Galleons?"   
"A lot. But that's not going to happen."   
"I could make it happen."   
Ron frowned.   
"Draco-"   
"Of course, I could just give you the equivalent value in Chocolate Frogs. You have been looking for Agrippa, haven't you?"   
"A thousand Galleons worth of Chocolate Frogs?"   
"Or a thousand Galleons even."   
"Why?"   
"I'm in a giving mood this year."   
"You're embezzling from your father, you mean."   
Draco laughed.   
"So I am. Giving the amount to you-"   
"Is another way of pissing him off. I think I'm okay with that. What do I have to do?"   
"Let me give you a massage."   
"But that's just you working again."   
"If you would let me go into the specifics, Ron."   
Draco paused, seizing his courage.   
"I give you a massage. You have to be naked."   
Ron scooted backward.   
"What? No!"   
"Not for a thousand?"   
"Well-"   
"How about the thousand and the equivalent Frogs?"   
Ron was weakening, Draco could feel it.   
"You can keep your wand with you. How about that? Hex me if you feel uncomfortable."   
"I feel uncomfortable right now!"   
"So you don't want the money or the Frogs?"   
Ron squirmed.   
"No one from Slytherin is staying except me. We will be completely alone."   
"And why shouldn't I have a problem with that?"   
"All right then. I have another reason. I saved your life. You're in debt to me and this is a way to pay it off."   
Of all the nerve! Ron scowled.   
"I could have made you do some really public things, Ron. This isn't a big deal, really."   
"But why do you want me naked?"   
Draco slurped the last of his hot chocolate and set the mug aside.   
"Rather obvious, Ron. Do use your brain outside of chess, please."   
The problem was, everything had just gone into a halt like that moment when the White Queen's arm rose and then there was pain and then nothing. Ron made some unintelligible noises.   
"Ron? You can't have lost total command of English."   
Ron's set reactions under stress were fairly straightforward. Blush, denial, and then the final dangerous stage. Defensive Fury with Yelling.   
The chessboard went flying, the chess pieces scrambling for cover under the table. Draco ducked. Ron was going at full pitch, yelling obscenities.   
"You sick, sick bastard! Don't you ever come near me again!"   
Ron ran. Draco shuddered at the fury. That was it that he needed, that emotion that was full and brimming. He wasn't going to let Ron go now. He ran after Ron. From Harry's descriptions, there was no use talking to Ron when he was in his moods.   
"Get away from me!"   
Draco switched to his secondary form. Ron took out his wand.   
"No, no, no!"   
"You are going to calm down and you are going to talk with me."   
Ron looked mulish. Draco's crest flared and that was the only warning. It took only two bounds and they were tangled together, Ron's wand forgotten. Draco tried to control himself, but with Ron flailing around in anger, his beak jabbed a couple of times into Ron's chest, drawing blood. His claws were cutting into Ron's shoulders but Ron just bit down his pain and rained punches and kicks on Draco. He wore himself out, until only his tightly clenched fists and closed eyes showed his resistance.   
"Ron. Ron, listen to me."   
Draco began to preen Ron's hair.   
"Haven't I changed for you?"   
Ron didn't answer.   
"Or is it because I am Draco Malfoy and I shouldn't desire you?"   
Ron's breath hitched.   
"Or is it because you don't like boys that way?"   
No answer.   
"Look at me, Ron."   
Ron's eyes slowly opened. Draco drew his head back and turned it, so that Ron would see one yellow eye.   
"I am not just a boy. I am part Veela. By chance I am also a Malfoy and it took away my birthright."   
Ron frowned. Draco was always proud of being a Malfoy.   
"I should be like her," Draco muttered. "I am the descendent of Tatyana the Peerless. I should be beautiful for you. I just wanted you to understand. You are beautiful for me."   
Draco began to peck at Ron's robe.   
"These clothes mark you as surely as Harry's scar marks him. No one sees past it. But I do. You are beautiful."   
Ron blushed.   
"Nobody sees this but me. I want to appreciate it, without these clothes, these poor rags that ruin everything about you. So take them off, let me touch you, and when I give you the Galleons, dress up properly, blow it on Cards, presents for your family, I don't care. Just let me see you. Handsome you."   
Draco clicked his beak.   
"If not, I understand that you can't. You are afraid of me. There's nothing wrong with that. After all, you are just a boy. Veela are for men. Didn't Fleur tell you that? Or did she just embarrass you in public only?"   
Draco got up and changed back.   
"So what will it be? Yes or no?"   
That's so like Draco, Ron thought, compliment you and then remind you of one of the most humiliating experiences in your life. Plus he called him scared.   
"I'll do it." 

  
Ron ran the promise of a thousand Galleons and Cards as a mantra in his head as he followed Draco down into the dungeons. Because otherwise he would have run by now. Only it wasn't a brave thing to do, and he was a Gryffindor. They passed through the Common Room into the dorms, and then into the Sixth Year Boys' dorm. Draco healed Ron's wounds and stepped back. He put his wand on the nightstand and put his hands behind his back. A thousand Galleons and Cards. A thousand Galleons and Cards. Ron began to strip. "How is this compared to the Gryffindor dorms?"   
"Huh? Oh…"   
Ron looked around.   
"Same furniture, I guess. Just not green. There are windows."   
"Drafty?"   
"No."   
"Why do you have arachnophobia?"   
Draco moved until he was sitting at the foot of his bed.   
"It was Fred. I broke his toy broom by accident when I was three. He got mad and well… turned my teddy bear into a spider. A great big one."   
Draco didn't laugh.   
"What happened?"   
"I got attacked by my own toy. It came at me and it was clicking and it had too many legs and-"   
"Then you are really brave. You knew there were Acromantula in the Forest, didn't you? And you went in anyway."   
Ron had only his boxers on by now. Amazingly, he was so involved with his memories that he forgot to be embarrassed. But Draco had no more questions he wanted to ask and his eyes fell on the boxers, pale from too much washing and with ragged hems. Ron felt his blush rise again, but fought it, stepping out of them and resisting the urge to cover himself with his hands.   
"Don't slouch. Good."   
Draco stood up and walked around Ron. He lingered over the subtle curve of Ron's back, the dents just before the buttocks, the long and tight muscles of his thighs and calves.   
"Somebody ought to make a statue of you. Except that it won't come out as beautiful as the original."   
"Can you stop saying that?" Ron mumbled, blushing even more.   
Draco stopped in front of him.   
"Why? Is it so shocking for me to be truthful?"   
"But I'm not."   
"Who says so?"   
"You did."   
"I just said you were a poor redhead. Which is true also. I was not capable; nobody was capable, of seeing you. You've grown up, Ron Weasley, and I'm the first to see the results. You will forgive me if I am overly proud of myself for this discovery."   
Ron sat down on the bed.   
"You do like me, don't you? I mean-"   
"Eloquence can't be bought with money, unfortunately," Draco smiled ironically. "Yes. Very much."   
"Why?"   
"I've said it many times. You are beautiful," Draco's mouth quirked. "Are you fishing for compliments, Ron? How very, very cute."   
Ron shook his head. The blush was still there.   
"I've just thought up of another question."   
"Yes?"   
"What's it like to be pinkish all the time?" Draco lightly poked Ron's shoulder.   
Ron snatched Draco's pillow and thwacked him with it. Draco caught it and was about to return the favor, when Ron found what was under the pillow.   
"What's my T-shirt doing here?"   
Draco froze.   
"Hey, what's my T-shirt doing here? Why have you got it?"   
Ron saw for the first time Draco looking like he wished the floor could swallow him up. Merlin knows how many times he's felt that himself and sympathized when he saw Harry looking like that. And it clicked together in his mind.   
"What have you been doing with it?"   
Ron's voice changed its timbre, it was amused and knowing, was just knee melting, if it wasn't for the fact that Draco was sitting already.   
"Are you sure you want to know?" Draco recovered poise annoyingly quickly. "Secret Veela things."   
"It's my T-shirt."   
"You know, this is nice. You. In my bed. Naked. Not embarrassed. Oops, so sorry, you're blushing again."   
Ron dropped his T-shirt and lay face down. Draco handed him the pillow, which he propped under his chin. And then Draco began. 

  
Ron was asleep. Draco sat back and looked. Absurd thoughts concerning Endymion flitted through his mind. Quite ready for more, he slowly turned Ron over.   
"Whah?"   
"You're done on the other side."   
Ron stretched and Draco watched. It was mildly disconcerting how much attention he was paying to him. But then, the play of muscles as Ron stretched was fascinating. Draco began working on Ron's chest.   
"What have you been doing with my T-shirt?"   
"In all honesty I have been smelling it."   
"Why?"   
Draco guided Ron's arms up and ran his fingers lightly up and down the white undersides. Ron shivered, and a corner of Draco's mouth lifted.   
"You smell delicious. You've got a particularly inebriating blend of pheromones."   
To demonstrate, Draco leant down and buried his nose in Ron's armpit. Ron squawked and tried to shove Draco's head away. Draco held Ron's arms down and continued snuffing happily.   
"Ew! Get out, that's gross! Hey!"   
Draco lifted his head.   
"You weirdo," Ron sputtered.   
Draco returned to Ron's armpit and started nuzzling. This was undiluted Ron smell and he wasn't having this chance again. Ron wriggled.   
"It tickles," he gasped. "Stop!"   
Draco sighed. He pinned Ron's hands back once more.   
"Don't move while I'm working. Understand?"   
"Or what?"   
Draco had a hunch. Or it was wishful thinking, a delightful chance of weakness, something to color his dreams at night, but one hand smoothed down and his fingers played Ron's sides like piano keys. The response was electric.   
"Ahhaaahaaaahaaaa! Stop it! Stop! Stop!"   
Ron thrashed and Draco's unholy smile wasn't helping matters. Draco tickled him mercilessly until he thought Ron couldn't turn any more red from laughing and abruptly stopped. Ron's body had been trying to burrow backwards into the mattress in futile attempt to escape. Draco's covers were messed up and Draco could not imagine a lovelier sight than a disheveled Ron in his bed.   
"So don't move."   
"Prat."   
Draco made some conciliatory rubs on Ron's pectorals and began to ease into Ron's sides. Ron relaxed and closed his eyes and began to drift off into sleep again. Draco had kept his hands well away from Ron's stomach but the minute Ron's breath had evened, he stopped and just looked. Again. Ron moving around and being embarrassed distracted him from the important thing about this whole endeavor. He was going to remember this, just in case Ron wouldn't be cooperative, no matter how he coaxed and charmed. Because if Ron wasn't going to like him, love him, then it was hopeless. And he would like to think that he wasn't a sucker for hopeless causes like his beloved Father. So he noticed. Noticed that Ron had freckles hiding underneath the hairs on his legs. Draco reached out and pressed Ron's knee with one finger and lifted it. His finger left a white imprint where it had cut off blood and the skin slowly returned to its normal pink shade. Fascinating. How very tempting the creases where his legs joined his body looked. How attractive his penis was. It was inert, a deeper shade of pink than the rest of his body, resting on the cushion of his scrotum. And Draco desired and wished and felt rather melancholy because it wasn't hard for him. But that wouldn't stop him. Draco began to massage Ron again, moving beyond the restrained boundaries he was accustomed to. Ron stirred just a bit when Draco's fingers pressed into the creases that led to his thighs. And then a little evil thought came to Draco. He closed his eyes and adjusted his pheromone cloud and carefully sent one tendril out so that Ron could breathe it in. He massaged down to Ron's toes, waiting for the result. He worked his way back up to Ron's chest and shook him awake.   
"Hmm?"   
"I think I'm done."   
Draco shook out his hands.   
"Oh, and by the way. You seem to have acquired an erection." 

TBC 


	8. No mistletoe needed

  
Ron squawked and the pillow was clapped to his lap. He backed up against the headboard.   
"Ron, that's my pillow you are currently molesting."   
Ron's mouth twisted.   
"Why didn't you wake me up?"   
"I was being discreet. I also wanted my two thousand Galleons worth. And I got it. Your body is nicely responsive."   
To my pheromones. Draco smiled contentedly. Ron made a choked sound and looked away.   
"Explain to me why you are embarrassed."   
"What is there to explain?"   
"I'm not embarrassed."   
"Well, you want me!"   
"And?"   
"I just don't feel comfortable about you seeing me like this, okay!?"   
"Right then. Well, get dressed and go back to you dorms. Your erection should go down from all that walking needed."   
Ron was giving him that walleyed expression again.   
"Now what's wrong?"   
"Why do you have to call it that?"   
"Call what what? Clarify, Ron."   
Ron blinked. Apparently his blush had once again reached maximum capacity.   
"Call…call it an…erection."   
Draco raised an eyebrow.   
"It is an erection, Ron. Oh… you prefer the plebeian habit of referring to all things sexual in slang."   
"Well, I heard you use slang once or twice."   
"That was before I learned better."   
Ron snorted.   
"Truly. Slang is low class. Why use one word when there already is a word to name it?"   
"Not all things already have names."   
"Really. Name one sexual thing or act that has no name but slang."   
Ron thought. Merlin, he's actually thinking about this.   
"Blowjob."   
"Fellatio."   
"What!?"   
"Fellatio. Verb, to fellate. Fellating, fellated, will fellate, would fellate, should fellate… Should I continue conjugating?"   
Ron shook his head.   
"Fellatio," he tried the word out. "It does sound better. I guess."   
"Ha."   
"But you can't seriously say that humping's got a real name?"   
"Depends. If there is no penetration, then the proper word is frottage."   
"Frottage."   
"Yes."   
"Weird."   
"Ron."   
"What?"   
"We just had a conversation on obscure, to you, sex terms," Draco handed Ron his clothes. "I just thought you should know how unprecedented that was."   
Ron made a faint unhappy noise. Draco smiled and did not look away as Ron dressed.   
"Your Galleons and Frogs will be delivered on Christmas. Can you wait?"   
Ron nodded. 

"Hey, Ron. Where were you?"   
Ron flushed.   
"Well?"   
"I got a massage from Draco."   
Jackpot! Harry stuffed a pumpkin pastie into his mouth to prevent him from smiling.   
"Really?"   
"Um. I'll be getting a thousand Galleons and a load of Frogs for Christmas this year."   
Draco, this is just so uninspired. Harry gulped down his pastie.   
"He paid you to let him massage you? But he's massaged you before."   
"This time was different."   
I'll bet, thought Harry.   
"How?"   
Ron mumbled something.   
"What?"   
"I said I was naked."   
Harry's eyebrows shot up. Draco got Ron naked? Ron waited for Harry to either start making disgusted noises or for him to express sympathy. He didn't expect him to just sit there. And start laughing.   
"It's not funny!"   
"Sorry!"   
Harry stopped laughing with some difficulty.   
"Why would Draco want to see you naked? You're having me on, aren't you?"   
Ooh. Bad acting. Hope Ron doesn't notice.   
"No. Draco is going to give me a thousand Galleons and the equivalent in Frogs because I let him massage me in the buff."   
Harry nodded. And Ron became suspicious.   
"Why aren't you surprised?"   
"I'm not surprised?"   
"You knew! You knew he wanted…" Ron's fists clenched. "If you weren't my best friend in the world Harry…"   
"Hermione knows too."   
"What!?"   
So Harry explained to Ron that Draco didn't just have eyes, he had a nose only for him.   
"You are very special to him, Ron. I really think you should give it a try."   
"Harry. You are not setting me up with Draco bloody Malfoy!"   
"Why not?"   
"I like girls!"   
"That could be a problem," Harry adjusted his glasses.   
"Could be? Harry, have you gone mad?"   
Ron slashed his hand in the air to cut off Harry's reply.   
"Okay, so he's decent now. Okay, so he can't help it, and I can't help that I've got something he wants. But why did you help him?"   
"I actually can't say why I'm doing this. The truth bites, huh?"   
Ron snorted.   
"I've got a theory," Harry ventured.   
"Oh, joy."   
"Draco hasn't told me much, but he has admitted to feeling lonely. And he says lots if you listen to him complain about this whole situation. He doesn't just want you for your body, Ron. I think he's starting to really care for you."   
"So?"   
"Well. Um. I feel sorry for him?"   
"Harry. If it weren't so you to do that, I'd kill you. You can't set me up with him just because you feel sorry for him!"   
"Okay, okay! I get it. It was stupid of me. I encouraged him. So now what?"   
"Now what? It was your idea!"   
"But I can't convince him to stay away from you now. Not since you let him see you naked. Do you know what that means to a Veela?"   
"No."   
"He didn't use his pheromones to convince you did he?"   
"No. I didn't feel anything."   
"Then you went in willingly?"   
"Yes."   
"If you did that, it means that you are telling him that you are willing in every way."   
Ron blanched.   
"Though come to think of it, bribing you was a pretty Slytherin thing to do. Slytherin of you to accept despite personal embarrassment. He's probably even more attracted to you now."   
"Ugh!"   
Harry patted Ron's shoulder.   
"But you do know that he likes you, maybe even about to love you. And why. So what are you going to do? You have all the pieces. Your move."   
Ron startled at Harry's choice of words.   
"Harry, this isn't a chess game."   
"I hope not. Because if this doesn't go right, one of you will be hurt and right now, it's Draco and not you. You do know that he's not going to drop you, do you?"   
"Yeah. I get that feeling too. It's all so complicated."   
"Ron, there's nothing wrong in saying no to him. And he should listen to what you have to say."   
"But it just doesn't feel right. It's weird. I can't just say no all of a sudden."   
"Huh. Can you like him?"   
"He's a guy."   
"He's part Veela. He can do some things that are pretty female. You might appreciate it."   
Harry didn't elaborate, no matter how many times Ron asked.   
"You'll only find out if you let him get close to you. And who knows? You might like him back."   
"Maybe. Yeah, maybe. Don't hold your breath."   
"Come on, Ron. There has to be something."   
"He has been really nice to me. And… he compliments me. A lot. And he does look… good." 

Draco was not surprised that Ron did not appear at the Great Hall. He had assurances from Harry that Ron wasn't going to stay in Gryffindor Tower the whole time, so it wasn't a total loss. In the meantime, he had to get a thousand Galleons worth of Frogs. He walked outside of the castle. It was snowing. He grumbled to himself. Next thing he needed to do was to figure out a more efficient way of using his wings without tearing clothes or taking them off. He stripped off his robe, shirt and shoes and switched forms. He bundled them up, Shrunk them, and put them in his bookbag, which he slung over one shoulder. He shivered, but the cold wasn't as bad as he expected. It did make some sense. Veela lived in the mountains, and judging from the books, they went around starkers in all weather. A strong downward beat of his wings and he was aloft. Honeydukes was just the place to supply the Frogs. And maybe, he could do some more shopping on behalf of Ron. 

Christmas arrived. Ron woke and in addition to yet another Weasley sweater and gifts from Harry and Hermione, there was a large box, wrapped in metallic green with a flourished black ribbon.   
"No doubt who that's from. Open it!" Harry was enthusiastically curious.   
Ron opened it and of course there were the Galleons and the multitude of Frogs. But at the bottom of the box…   
"This is a conspiracy."   
Harry was rolling around on the ground laughing.   
"Ma-Ma-Ma-Haaahaaahaaahaaa!"   
"Maroon silk boxers. He got me maroon silk boxers. I can't believe he got me maroon silk boxers."   
"You going to wear them?"   
"What? No!"   
"You sure?"   
"Yes!" 

Ron pushed open the Portrait, to find Draco leaning against the wall. He smiled.   
"Merry Christmas."   
Ron blushed. And shut the Portrait on Harry. He braced himself against the frame to keep it shut.   
"Why did you have to give me those?" he hissed.   
"It was part of the deal, Ron. I don't think you would like it if I went back on my word."   
"I meant the boxers."   
"Oh. Just a little fancy. It's nice and luscious. Reminded me of you."   
Why did he have to drop compliments like that all of a sudden? Ron gave up trying to stop and just blushed.   
"Uh… Thanks. For everything."   
Draco laughed.   
"Are you going to let Harry out now? The feast is waiting."   
Ron belatedly stood away from the portrait. Harry pushed it open, a little vexed. He shook his head when he saw Draco.   
"Don't visit us too often if he's going to do this all the time."   
They went down to the Hall and sat down. There were so few people staying over that they sat at the same table. Draco's mouth quirked in satisfaction when he found that the other students staying were some Ravenclaws and some younger Hufflepuffs. He selected a seat opposite Ron and Harry, safely separate from them, and began to eat. Harry was going through the feast at an impressive pace, not missing any of the dishes. Ron was eating, but not with half the gusto normally associated with the act.   
"Saving room for dessert?"   
"What?"   
"Saving room for dessert? Like chocolate, perhaps?" Draco asked.   
"Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it will take room."   
They fell silent, letting other conversations fill the gaps.   
"Hey, Draco?"   
"Mmm?"   
"Want to join us? Harry and I thought that maybe we can't finish it all."   
"You two don't really think you can physically take in all of that chocolate at once, do you?"   
Both Harry and Ron exchanged a glance. Draco snorted.   
"Gryffindors. Why not? Where will the festivities be held?" 

"Ron heard me give the Slytherin password. And it can be changed, can't it? Just let me in."   
It was reasonable, so Draco was allowed into the Gryffindor Common Room. They went into the dorms and Ron dragged the box with the Frogs over to his bed. Harry sat on the floor and took one.   
"All cards that Ron doesn't have already are ours, okay?"   
"I don't collect them," Draco was unwrapping a frog.   
"What? Blasphemy!" Ron quipped.   
"That's being a Slytherin for you. Come back here!"   
The Frog had leapt into the air. Draco snatched it easily and crammed it into his mouth. He looked at Harry and Ron, who were gaping at him.   
"What?"   
"That was just…" Ron snapped his fingers.   
"Good thing you don't do that on the Pitch."   
Draco frowned and opened another Frog. It leapt up and again he caught it easily. An evil smile came to his face.   
"Well well well…What a lovely surprise. The next Quidditch match will be interesting."   
"How-"   
"What-"   
Draco laughed.   
"I don't know. It's a bit odd for me also. Maybe…"   
He switched to his secondary form. He carefully slit open another box with his claws and the frog jumped. Faster than it looked possible, his head snapped forward and with a clean snap of his beak the frog was gone.   
"Marvelous!"   
Draco stayed in his form, snapping up his 'live prey' with zeal. Harry began organizing the cards.   
"Morgana, Morgana, Morgana, she's everywhere… Oh, here's a good one, didn't you say you needed a Finegas?"   
"Hm? Oh! Yeah! Give it!"   
"This one's Cathbad. And Taliesin. Looks like a surfeit of Celts," Draco passed his cards to Ron.   
Ron was ecstatic.   
"Fred and George will be so jealous! They haven't got these!"   
Later, Harry crawled to his bed.   
"Full. So full. And if I don't see another Chocolate Frog, it will be too soon!"   
He flopped into his bed.   
"Lay on the melodrama," Draco found a Dumbledore and Merlin.   
"Really. I have so much chocolate in me, I'm pretty sure I can breathe on a Dementor and scare it away. Urrrgh…"   
"Sorry Harry," Ron didn't sound sorry.   
"Just you wait until it hits you. Good night. Going to sleep now."   
His bed curtains swished shut.   
"Low stomach room, huh?"   
"He did tuck in at the feast."   
Ron and Draco continued to open Frogs. A thought struck Ron. He looked at Draco, who was examining a Cassandra card. Something warm and wriggly, something anticipatory seemed to get hold of him as he watched Draco. Like kicking a broom off ground in the dark, it was risky, but Ron just knew he had to do it. He was a Gryffindor, after all.   
"Draco?"   
"Hmm?"   
"I didn't give you a Christmas present."   
"This is a good enough Christmas present, seeing you happy."   
"No. I want to do something. Please."   
"But you already let me massage you and see you naked. I appreciate the offer, but I don't want to make you any more self-conscious."   
What am I saying? I'm a Slytherin!   
"Just change back, okay?"   
Draco returned to his human form. He was sitting on the floor. Ron slid down from his spot in his bed to sit next to Draco. He took a deep breath.   
"Merry Christmas."   
He darted forward and planted a chocolate sweet kiss on Draco. Draco started in surprise, but began to return the kiss. Ron jerked back and Draco was left with his lips puckered over air. He opened his eyes.   
"Unacceptable. The caliber of your present is not nearly as consequential as mine. Try again."   
Ron blushed.   
"Fine." 

At first, it felt weird. That was Ron's conclusion. But then, it started to feel good. Really good. Why he started kissing Draco, he couldn't articulate. Only that the kisses from Draco's mouth were delicious like no Chocolate Frog was delicious, that Draco was lavishing indescribable sweetness upon him and it was new and wonderful. Before he knew it, somehow Draco was on his back and he was on top, doing things he didn't know one could do with a tongue. It was warm and cozy and why didn't he try this before? Draco broke the kiss and burrowed his face into Ron's neck, squeezing a hug.   
"Perfect," he mumbled. "More!"   
So they occupied themselves. Ron didn't have any idea what to do with a male body, but when his fingers found a nipple and he felt Draco smile against his lips, he couldn't bring himself to care. He pinched and twisted. Draco's body tensed like a bowstring and he arched into Ron, panting. They came to an impasse when they inadvertently rolled onto some Frog boxes. The crinkling discomfort forced Draco to sit up. They stared at each other for some time. Draco sighed and moved to stand up.   
"It's late."   
Ron frowned.   
"You're going back? Now?"   
Ron hesitated for just a second.   
"No. Stay here. Please?"   
The quiet surprise on Draco's face was replaced with a measure of uncertainty.   
"I mean it. Come on."   
They undressed. Draco raised an eyebrow.   
"You are not wearing my other present, Ron."   
"Oh. Sorry. I'll wear it tomorrow."   
"Promise?"   
"Yeah."   
"Marvelous."   
They crawled under Ron's covers. Draco cooed.   
"I thought you only did that when you were changed."   
"Exceptions happen, Ron. This may be the nicest Christmas present anyone's ever given me."   
Draco turned on his side and slid his arm across Ron's stomach, finding his hand and squeezing it.   
"You know, there's no one else I'd rather sleep with than you."   
Ron felt a bubble of droll gladness. He didn't feel a bit embarrassed by Draco's gentle implication.   
"Good to know." 

TBC 


	9. Little less talk and a lot more action

"Rise and shine, Ron! The floor's still a mess and- Whoa!"   
Harry's eyes boggled. His mouth dropped. He snapped the curtains around Ron's bed shut and quickly backed away. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and adjusted his glasses. Then he decided to do his morning ablutions at double quick time and to trot out to the library and stay there for the rest of the day except for meals and maybe even visit Hedwig. Let it never be said that Harry Potter did not know that there really are things he was not to stick his Gryffindor nose in.   
Ron stretched, was hindered by a warm weight, remembered last night, and did not stop the smile spreading on his face. Draco was awake and watching him.   
"Morning."   
"Afternoon, actually."   
Draco began to rub Ron's chest.   
"Harry's stepped out. Possibly for the rest of the day."   
"How do you know?"   
"He tried, emphasis on tried, to wake you up. He had something of a surprise."   
Draco smirked. 

They decided to just feed on Chocolate Frogs for "breakfast" and stay in the dorm. Ron changed into the maroon silk boxers for their "breakfast".   
"Feels funny. Ticklishy."   
He squirmed.   
"I should tell you that hate maroon."   
"You do?"   
"Yeah. But I can make an exception this time."   
Ron didn't get to stay in the boxers for very long. They began to kiss again, Draco's fingers stroking downwards on Ron's back. He followed the waistband of the boxers around to the front and down, lightly tracing the moist spot he found. Ron inhaled sharply. He pulled back. Draco hooked his thumbs into the waistband.   
"Shall I continue?"   
Ron nodded and leaned back, lifting his hips to help as Draco pulled them down. Draco smiled that evil smile again, and Ron barely had time to register it when Draco's tongue snaked out and licked it from base to tip. He lingered there, his lips gently kissing and lapping at the precum, savoring the squeaking rasps of breath from Ron.   
"Hmm… An acquired taste. Definitely. But there are obvious benefits to acquiring it, I'll say."   
With that pronouncement, Draco ducked his head and proceeded to show Ron just how like his House symbol's tongue his own was. Ron was trembling, he'd never felt this good ever, and Merlin it was embarrassing the amount of noise he was making. Draco gave one last suck before withdrawing, grinning at Ron's look of profound disappointment. He took the time to take his own boxers off.   
"Pop quiz, Ron. New vocabulary word. What was it again?"   
"…Oh. Frottage."   
"Right. Proceed."   
Ron crawled on top and they began kissing despite the fact that Ron got the giggles.   
"What are you laughing about?"   
"It's true. Everyone is the same height lying down."   
"You inane person, you."   
"Shut up."   
Draco snorted and then gasped when Ron began rocking their hips together in earnest.   
"Shutting up. Very much shutting up."   
"No, you're not. See?"   
"Now you shut up! Ah!" 

"Amazing. I'm all sweaty and I don't have my usual urge to have a bath."   
"Fussy git."   
Draco pinched Ron half-heartedly. Ron turned his head in question and found that despite Draco's comment, he looked pensive.   
"What is it?"   
Draco shook his head.   
"Slytherin things."   
"Tell me."   
Draco ducked his head into Ron's chest.   
"You are mine now. All mine."   
He squeezed Ron's hand.   
"I would kill for you. I feel it. But you don't understand. Do you?"   
Ron's face took on a solemn expression, as he petted Draco's hair.   
"Percy once told me that Weasleys are… are serially monogamous."   
"Really?"   
"Yeah."   
Draco shifted a little away from Ron and reached under the covers. Ron's brow crinkled when he didn't feel Draco's hand.   
"What are you doing?"   
"Checking."   
"For what?"   
Draco pushed the covers down. He drew his knees up and apart, his fingers gathering his scrotum up and aside.   
"Look."   
Ron moved and knelt between Draco's knees. He could see the crease of his buttocks, leading to the pink pucker of his anus. There was a shininess there, moistness. Ron's eyes flicked a question to Draco, who merely spread his legs wider and shifted his hips upward. Ron's hand barely touched Draco's thigh and traced downward, until one finger tentatively dipped into the waiting cleft. Draco's eyes closed. Ron's finger withdrew, and he rubbed it against his thumb. It was pearly and slick.   
"What is this?"   
"My own natural lubricant. Like a girl."   
Ron nodded, a little numb with astonishment.   
"How?"   
Draco shrugged. Ron returned his finger and began a slow probing.   
"Hurt?"   
"No."   
Ron, reassured, pushed his finger in further, until it disappeared completely. He could feel Draco gripping and releasing it. He worked another finger in and continued to move.   
"This is so weird."   
Draco didn't reply. His hips began to undulate on their own volition, a new erection rising. Draco began to pant again. Ron watched, fascinated, as each change he made, be it depth or speed, elicited soft and frantic cooing and exclamations, vowels that roiled and rolled in italics on Draco's buttery drawl. Draco's other hand suddenly gripped his and tightened. He was trying to pull him out. Ron pushed in more and Draco responded by trying to lift his hips further and away. He abruptly sat up, using both hands to pull Ron's hand out, and clasped him close and tight; his breathing still rapid and shallow.   
"Unacceptable. I want more than mere fingers, Ron," he admonished. "How dare you try to make me orgasm otherwise."   
"Oh. Guess that's why I have a cock, huh?"   
Draco rolled his eyes and fell back into the bed, his legs sprawling apart. Ron wiped that condescending look from Draco's face rather quickly. He bolted forward and with a wriggle and a push, he was in. Draco didn't appreciate the suddenness of the proceedings and vengefully clenched on Ron's penis. That only made him moan in gratitude and push deeper in return.   
"Take it easy!" Draco burst out.   
Ron shook his head.   
"Nope. Hang on. Enjoy the ride."   
"You are going to be so sorry you- ah!"   
Draco's legs were in a death grip around Ron's.   
"Don't rush me!"   
"Nah uh. You've given me a blowjob and I'm gonna even up the score."   
Draco's protests soon became quite incoherent as Ron jounced him at a brisk rhythm. So they made love. It was honest. Simple. Unutterably precious. So much ardor and sweat and abandon. Draco didn't care that he was making the most ignoble sounds in time with Ron's pace. Ron's voice had taken on that ragged quality that burned and sizzled in intensity. And the scent! Deep and dusky like the sea at midnight, with a fog rolling in. Draco gulped it down, the smell of salt and musk, slippery and saturate, hot and sex. Oh, more! So hot, so hot, this could melt snow, this is winter, only it isn't cold- and that fine frisson forced its way, surged and flared through his neurons and he keened and thrashed, all of his body taut and trembling. He clutched Ron close as they both fainted into somnolence. 

They managed to wake up and found Harry slumped into one of the chairs in the Common Room. He lifted his head and blearily rubbed his eyes. He noticed their clasped hands.   
"Congrats. You two got together."   
He yawned.   
"Gaargh. I got a crick in my neck…"   
"Sorry we kept you out of the dorm," Ron mumbled.   
"No problem. You two can't continue doing this once the holidays are over, so I can sleep out a couple of…"   
Harry snapped his mouth shut when he noticed Draco's stricken expression.   
"Harry, you idiot! Remind us now, why don't you!"   
"Sorry!"   
Draco was dragging Ron back towards the dormitory.   
"Hey! What are you-"   
Draco shushed him with a kiss and without a backward glance, shut the door to the dorms behind them. Harry sighed.   
"What was that spell that can turn chairs into sofas again?" 

TBC 


	10. Draco and Ron working it

They did occasionally let Harry into the dorm when they decided to eat things other than Chocolate Frogs. By the time the holidays ended, they had finished the Frogs and Ron finally got his Agrippa and Ptolemy. Draco spent most of his time around Ron, holding him, kissing him, watching him. Victory was sweet and winning in love was sweetest of all. Draco wondered if he was the first Slytherin to discover this. He resolved to not let the impending continuation of school get in his way. Ron readily agreed to owling with a school owl and meeting together in the massage room.   
"What about your father?"   
"Don't mention him."   
"But-"   
"Don't." 

  
Harry did express some reluctance to spending all of his holiday sleeping time on a transfigured couch.   
"I mean, you can't stay up there all the time!"   
"Harry, Harry, Harry."   
Draco gave him a lofty smirk.   
"I have a stockpile of chocolate. I have a willing Ron. Think of the possibilities!"   
"Bleurgh. I'd rather not, thanks."   
"Oh. One thing. Can we borrow your cauldron? I noticed that it's clean."   
"What for?"   
"Ron's is coated with dried salamander residue. Mine is in the dungeons. We need to melt the chocolate in something."   
"What for?!"   
"I thought you didn't want to think of the possibilities?"   
"Oh bleeeeuuurgh!" 

  
Ron and Harry were playing chess. Draco waltzed in the Common Room, arms laden with some books from the library for his holiday homework.   
"Mmm… I'm not in the mood for this. Ron… let's go and have sex in the shower."   
He dropped the books on a table. Harry was biting his lip and Ron was blushing.   
"Draco! Harry's here."   
"Oh?"   
Draco turned around.   
"Oh. Then… you can just scrub my back," Draco winked. "I'll be waiting."   
He strode off, dropping his robe before he disappeared through the door.   
"Umm…"   
Harry sighed.   
"Go on. I'm losing anyway. I'll be in the library."   
"Okay."   
Ron took off in a run. 

  
"Please. Please…"   
"Hold still!"   
"Aaah… Come on, please! Just…"   
Draco shook his head as he gradually worked his way down on Ron, his hips moving in a slow parody of the rumba.   
"No. You are going to hold still until I say otherwise."   
"Come on! You can't be standing this!"   
Draco grinned.   
"I can if I can watch you like this."   
Ron thrust upwards, only to have Draco rise on his knees, withdrawing. Ron whined.   
"Put it in!"   
"You hold still and I will!"   
"I'll die before then!"   
Draco pushed Ron's pelvis down back into the bed. Ron quivered as Draco began his agonizingly slow descent again. Draco smirked when he had Ron halfway in. He then sank down abruptly.   
"Yes!" Ron howled. 

  
"Going to miss this," Ron was moving slowly, oh slowly.   
Draco was kissing all over Ron's face, small dry pecks.   
"Going to miss you," Draco replied. "Love you."   
He couldn't say any more as an orgasm seized his nerves and shook him silly. He barely responded at first as Ron took his mouth into a wet and sloppy kiss. The best sort, in Draco's opinion. Ron began moving faster; satisfied that Draco had finished. Draco buried his head at the juncture of Ron's shoulder and neck, breathing in Ron's titillating aroma.   
"You're doing it again," Ron muttered.   
"Mmm… Ron smell. Good Ron smell."   
Draco moved his hands over Ron's shoulders, smoothed and pressed the hollow just before the swell of his buttocks and then over them, gripping them, pushing Ron deeper into him. Draco let out an extra strong puff of his pheromone cloud and watched in satisfaction as Ron's orgasm prolonged and intensified.   
"Ooohh. Yeah. Going to really miss this…"   
His arms gave out. Draco tightened his arms around Ron's shoulders and cooed.   
"Love you," Ron whispered.   
Ron's eyes closed and he collapsed into oblivion. 

  
Draco stretched. He pulled back the covers and crawled down until he was level with Ron's crotch. He ducked his head and gently nudged Ron's penis with his tongue and lips. He tongued and nibbled just enough to know that Ron was ready for another round. He let go and moved until he was straddling Ron. He began tickling.   
"Aah! Draco!"   
Draco leered charmingly and continued tormenting Ron. Ron lunged forward and caught Draco's wrists. They twisted and writhed, Ron laughing and yelling. Draco managed to angle his elbows and dug them into Ron's sides. He howled and flipped Draco over, pinning him down. He glared.   
"If you don't stop, you know what I'll do?"   
Draco stilled, worried.   
"What?"   
"I'll do you so hard you won't move ever again!"   
"Ooooh. Is that a promise?" 

  
Hermione spent more time watching the boys than concentrating on the dinner. She knew that something would have happened during her absence, but what, she was not precisely sure. Harry had a faintly indulgent expression on his face. Ron was, simply put, in a state of blissful cheer. She glanced at the Slytherin table. Draco was wearing the Mona Lisa smile. And that could only mean one thing.   
"What have they…"   
"Sex. Sleep. Sex. Sleep. In short, slex," Harry cracked.   
Well.   
"I'm happy for you, Ron."   
Ron nodded and grinned.   
"Thanks."   
Upon closer observation, it was obvious. Draco was always a cool and collected person, up to his chin in propriety. Today, he was loose in the hips, loose in the lips. Just too languid to have not done something strenuous and disgustingly debauched. And Ron, Ron was just a bit amazed by something ineffable, he was grinning too much for somebody about to go back to the routine of school and he was continuously catching Draco's eye. Hermione worried that others would find out, but thankfully, Draco nipped the problem in the bud by bestowing a spectacular sneer at Ron's direction. The effect was slightly ruined by the wink that Ron sent him in return. 

  
The next couple of weeks were an exercise in patience for the both of them. Draco found inordinate amounts of delight dousing Ron with his pheromones and watching him quiver with barely repressed desire. It was doubly dangerous because this happened most often during Potions and Ron's expression of dire consequences was just too arousing in of itself. Draco reveled in his power over Ron. He didn't expect Ron to get his own form of revenge. 

Of course he wasn't going to just let Draco yank his chain. He took to waylaying Draco between classes, pulling him behind tapestries. A heated kiss, and a quick pinch and twist to his nipples and then Ron would run to the next class, out of reach from Draco who was left excited and frustrated for hours. Ron laughed to himself. Serves Draco right. It turned out that Draco had incredibly sensitive nipples. Ron would slowly lick one until it hardened and then move on to the other, back and forth, while Draco cooed and weakly told him that he'd kill him if he didn't move on to more pertinent body parts. He also loved it when his nipples were treated to a gentle scratching with Ron's fingernails. Ron felt justifiably smug over the fact that only he knew for sure Draco's weak spots. Of course, Draco wasn't about to let Ron yank his chain. 

TBC 


	11. Trouble in Paradise

Ron snarled from behind his gag, his arms twisting and straining against the chains that kept him shackled to the wall. Draco smiled lazily and sent a stronger gust of his pheromones at Ron. Ron struggled harder, the chains rattling. Draco watched, appraising the barely contained power that anger and frustration gave to Ron's body.   
"Tease me, Ron Weasley, and I tease you back."   
Ron's lip curled.   
"It's what we've always done. Of course, now, it's different, isn't it?"   
Draco's fingers trailed down Ron's sternum, and paused just above his bellybutton. Draco's smile grew smugger as Ron's torso twitched and arched for more contact. Draco's pheromones adjusted and Ron moaned. Draco backed off. He stripped, casually aware that Ron was watching his every move. Draco sat on the couch, and leaned back, spreading his legs.   
"Because now, Ron. You are listening, aren't you? Yes, you are. Good. Now, I don't intend to just tease. Obviously."   
Draco's thumb was sliding in slow circles around his glans, smoothing precum into the growing flush of his arousal. A violent rattle from Ron's chains and Draco's smile became anticipatory.   
"The chains will discorporate in approximately two minutes."   
Ron snarl became a whine.   
"Yes, you are angry, aren't you? Going to get what's coming to me, aren't I? Yes, going to kill the naughty, nasty, teasing Slytherin aren't you? Yes?"   
One last surge of pheromones and Ron yelled, the gag already discorporated. The chains shimmered and vanished, and he hurtled forward. His hands closed perilously around Draco's throat, as if the first thing he really wanted to do was to throttle him. As it was, he was doing a clear job of cutting off Draco's airflow with his kiss, which would leave marks afterwards. Draco's submission didn't appease Ron, who let go and jerked Draco's knees up and further apart. Draco yowled as Ron made his first thrust.   
"No mercy!" he exulted. "Harder!"   
Another sweep of pheromones and Ron lost all conscience. 

  
"Don't ever do that again."   
Draco pouted.   
"I don't appreciate your implication that I can't take whatever you can do to me, Ron."   
"I don't like hurting you. I mean, you've got bruises on your neck."   
Draco shrugged.   
"So?"   
"Draco, I won't do that to you."   
"Why not? I want you to."   
"So I just have to obey, is that it?"   
Draco frowned.   
"I've got my pheromones under control. Quit being such a worrywart."   
"But you don't have me under control, I'm not in any control, I could've hurt you! Don't you get it? Or am I supposed to just shut up and bugger you? Is that it? I'm just a convenient toy to play with aren't I?"   
"Ron-"   
"Forget it. You are just using me like you've always used everyone, even Harry."   
Ron stood up and left the room. The door slammed. 

  
"Damn Veela."   
"Ron? What's the matter?"   
Harry closed his Charms text. Those were the first words Ron had said in a long time. He was sitting in a corner in the Common Room, untouched by the friendly chaos of the Gryffindors.   
"Do you want me to get Hermione?"   
Ron bit his lip.   
"Yeah, I think we all need to talk. I'm all…"   
Ron sighed.   
"This sucks."   
They decided to go into the kitchens. Hermione sat down and got straight to the point.   
"What's wrong between Draco and you?"   
Ron began a slow flush.   
"Personal stuff."   
Hermione nodded and allowed Ron to work up the necessary courage to tell them.   
"It's his pheromones. We can't get together all the time. And he gets impatient."   
Ron was glad that both Harry and Hermione kept their serious expressions. It was really embarrassing.   
"I don't mind when he sometimes hits me with some, you see? It's just him showing me that he wants me. And… I show him I want him too. But this time it was really different. You remember that one time with Draco, Harry? Where you thinking?"   
Harry shook his head.   
"Just hot and horny. Took me by surprise."   
"Yeah. Like that. But was it really strong? Like if you… didn't have sex right then, you could've gotten really violent?"   
Harry shook his head.   
"Ron, I think you should tell us what happened," Hermione squeezed his hand.   
"Okay. He…" Ron reddened. "Tied me up."   
"Kinky."   
"Harry!" Hermione glowered.   
"It's okay. So, I couldn't get at him. And he just kept on hitting me with his pheromones again and again, and I just… lost it. When he finally let me loose… He's got bruises now."   
Hermione gasped. Harry raised his eyebrows.   
"Ron, it's not your fault. No matter what, it's his pheromones. I read that Veela magic is completely overwhelming-"   
"That's not it."   
"Then what is?"   
"I know about how I can't control myself. I told him, and he won't listen to me. He'll go on doing whatever he wants. He made me hurt him! I'm scared that if it goes too far, it won't be just some bruises! I just feel totally out of control, not just when he hits me with that stuff. He can have whatever he wants from me. And I can't stop it."   
Hermione's expression was just this side of Crusading for Justice.   
"Ron. Draco Malfoy is a selfish, conceited, inhuman slimeball. He's obviously ignoring what makes you uncomfortable and your opinions. This relationship should stop now. He doesn't have your best interests at heart."   
Ron's eyes widened.   
"Besides, I assumed that the two of you would have a falling out by now, it's inevitable, isn't it? You two have never gotten along. It's only him being in lust with you. And you certainly don't need to be tied to somebody so shallow and inconsiderate."   
Harry chose this moment to cut in.   
"You aren't taking into account that Draco's never been close to anyone before. So he's made a mistake. Mistakes happen. Remember me and Cho?"   
"Harry, that's different."   
"How? I don't understand girls. But I like girls. Draco doesn't get Ron. But he likes Ron."   
"He said he loved me," Ron muttered.   
"Okay. He loves him. See?"   
Hermione rolled her eyes.   
"Forgive me for being just a bit pessimistic, but boys will say anything to get some sex."   
She sighed at their scandalized expressions.   
"And after, too. I hear that the afterglow can do some wonky things to a bloke's speech muscles."   
"Hermione-"   
"That's not fair!"   
"I have it from an authority."   
Ron scoffed.   
"Girls talk," Hermione asserted.   
"So who is this authority?"   
"I will not reveal more than is necessary. Suffice to say, I think Draco is human enough to say it, but inhuman enough, or just plain male enough, to not think about whether he means it."   
"But he does feel something for Ron, right, Ron?"   
"You heard what Hermione said."   
"But she doesn't know about how much Draco really feels. I do. I've had to be massaged by him and listen to him talk and go on and on about you. This isn't just some game, he wouldn't go through all that trouble. He's already risked his neck with his father over you."   
"I know."   
"Then what do you suggest, Harry? I think Ron shouldn't continue with this. Obviously, if Draco really loved him, he'd listen."   
"I don't know. But I think Draco should get another chance. I mean, he shouldn't just walk all over Ron like that."   
Harry adjusted his glasses.   
"Maybe there are some books on kinks? Draco could use some help-"   
"Harry!"   
"I'm not going to be his sexual counselor!"   
"Okay! Sorry!"   
They sat, staring at each other, and then burst into giggles.   
"Okay. Okay. Let's be serious here," Hermione managed.   
They outlined a plan of action for Ron, even though sporadic giggles erupted. Ron missed this; he missed just talking with Harry and Hermione. 

  
The next morning, Draco risked catching Ron's eye and smiling at him. Ron didn't smile back. And he felt afraid. He would feel more secure, more sure of what to do if Ron scowled at him, made a rude gesture or called him names. That was how Ron always acted when he was upset at him. But this blank look and then turning away was alien. It was cold. He looked at Hermione and Harry. Harry just shrugged minutely before returning to his breakfast and Hermione had that Mother Hen, Just Look What You Did You Nasty Boy look on her face. Draco did not like how this was going at all. In retrospect, perhaps he did push Ron a bit too far. Ha. Understatement of the year. He played a Slytherin game on a Gryffindor, of course Ron was going to shy away. 

The next couple of days were a tense dance, as Draco tried to figure out what was going on in Ron's head. Harry told him to just get it over with and talk to Ron. Well, how was he supposed to do that, when Ron wasn't talking to him? And then there was that niggling worry in the back of his mind. What if that talk became the Very Last Talk? The dreaded I Don't Think This Will Work Talk? Draco couldn't bear the thought that Ron would do that to him. So he brooded and watched. 

TBC 


	12. Tense and Troubled

"I think he's going barmy Ron."   
"I know. He's done nothing but stare at me the whole time. It's creeping me out."   
"I think he's softened up enough to talk to, don't you?"   
"Maybe. Hermione was right. Take away all accustomed responses and the mind will be at lost to cope with sudden change, especially given the type of personality manifest by subject. End quote."   
Harry snickered.   
"I think that he's just a bit scared, Ron."   
"Well, good. He's scared me."   
"So you'll talk to him?"   
"Yeah. Maybe after Potions."   
"Ron?"   
"Yeah?"   
"Are you okay?"   
"I miss him. Despite it all, I miss him." 

  
Professor Snape paired them together again. Draco inhaled Ron's smell hungrily. It was too long since they were within arms length of each other… What's this? Ron's smell was different. Draco sniffed suspiciously. It was very different. In fact, he smelled neutered. Not male. Draco shot an alarmed look at Ron, who looked at him complacently. What happened?   
"Are you just going to stand there or shall we start?" Ron asked.   
So cold. Draco shuddered.   
"What's happened to you?"   
"I found a way to cope."   
In desperation, Draco sent a light wisp of pheromone towards Ron. Nothing. His physiology had no response that Draco could detect. No arousal.   
"What did you do?" he hissed.   
"We can't talk here."   
"The massage room. Please. Talk to me. I'm sorry."   
Ron was momentarily shocked by Draco's admission.   
"Okay." 

  
Ron walked in and sat in a chair opposite from Draco on the couch.   
"What did you do?" Draco snapped.   
"No hello?"   
"This is a more pressing matter."   
"For you. You just can't stand the fact that right now I'm just not in the mood."   
The slightly smug tone made Draco's skin prickle with anger.   
"In fact, if this keeps up, you'll just lose interest in me. And then all this trouble will end. You can find yourself another."   
"NO!"   
Draco tried to master himself, tried to get himself back in control.   
"You can't leave."   
"Except for the fact that you can't make me do anything. Not anymore. And that's the point, isn't it? That you can make me do whatever you want?"   
"How can you think that? I don't-"   
"Yes, you did! You only want me because of the way I smell! I don't matter at all!"   
"You have no idea what I see! You are smart… You are beautiful! You have such emotion, you have ravished my heart with your eyes! And you dare insinuate that you are helpless! You braved Acromantulas, you are candid to a fault because you say nothing unless you truly feel it… A man! With such a body that makes me weak and careless!"   
Draco stopped. He took a breath.   
"You were magnificent that night. All your muscles straining for me, dominating me, making me yours as you are mine. It was the reason, the end to which I am Veela. I needed to find a male who would match me, who could mete out the same passion measure for measure. I needed to experience it and found it in you."   
Ron was sitting in mute shock.   
"Perhaps I shouldn't have been so sudden. I treasure the way we touched before, you are a natural virtuoso at lovemaking. The past weeks you challenged me, mocked me with your control over my desires. Do you have any idea how galling such a thing is to a Slytherin? I had to affirm that I was not completely lost in you. Ron, beloved, you are not the one who is helpless. I am. And you hurt me by suggesting that I can have another."   
Draco resolved to be strong. As he talked, he realized that it was not his prerogative to keep Ron. He didn't want a cowed and weak partner. And if Ron stayed only to appease him, then he was broken, he wasn't the one Draco needed.   
"You regret this. You have gone out of your way to make yourself unappealing to me. It will not work. Without your pheromones, without your reactions to me, without even touching me, you still have a hold over me. But it is your regret. Do as you will."   
He waited for Ron's answer. He waited for Ron to renounce him, to be free of him.   
"I won't go."   
Ron pulled the enchanted amulet created by Hermione out from under his collar and let it dangle in his fingers.   
"I'm not going to take this off. Not yet. It locks in testosterone. You can't sense any of my pheromones. I can't be affected by anything you do, because I've got no libido at all. Just so you know."   
He slipped it back under his collar.   
"Damn Granger and her scintillating brain."   
Draco ran his fingers through his hair. For this, he could not meet Ron's eyes.   
"I am nothing to you, if it were not for my being part Veela. You would never have noticed me, never have found me attractive. I do not forget how we've behaved towards each other for years. So my eagerness in regards to using my powers, in effect, is desperation."   
Ron laughed.   
"You, desperate? Merlin, you've got us all fooled!"   
"Ron, I don't think you understand Slytherin. We do what we think we need to do to get what we want. It's always about control and who's got something over another. Who owes something, who's got something to hide, what their deepest desire is. I, as a Slytherin, am saying that you are my liability. And I did what I thought I needed to do. You have no reason to stay."   
"Well, I guess you don't know Gryffindors. I'm not giving up. Simple as that. We've got something, I don't know what, but it's something. So scheme all you want and if it goes balls up on you, I'll be expecting it and I'm not leaving."   
"Unreasonable. Illogical, and just not a smart move."   
"You want me to cut my losses and make a break for it. I say I haven't even started tolerating your difficult arse yet."   
Ron rose to his feet and pulled Draco into a hug.   
"Can we try to see what it's like with no distractions? Just you and me?"   
"Yes."   
"Good. I'll kick your arse at chess." 

  
Knowing that Draco really wanted him on his own merits and not just because of his body odor or because of how he knew what do in bed boosted Ron's confidence tremendously. He was less likely to embarrass himself or lose his temper. In class, he was able to concentrate more, not only because Hermione's amulet effectively curtailed one of the more vexing aspects of adolescence, but because Draco had confidence in his brain. His marks went up steadily without Hermione's nagging. All these changes could not fail to bring him to the attention of a certain number of girls. Now, Ron never had an easy time of it with any girls before and Fleur's effective dismissal of him in Fourth Year and the spat with Hermione at the Ball formed the basis of a long insecurity in that area. But he had Draco's devotion now and he didn't need to worry about what impressions he was giving to any girl. Ironically, it was this casual demeanor that made him that much more attractive. 

So Draco was deprived of Ron's body. But he was not deprived of Ron. When he smiled, Ron smiled back. Warm, tight hugs. So many chess matches. And when they met up together, they would talk late into the night. He could tickle Ron unremittingly. And Ron was still very compelling, even though his passion was banked. And that would last until the end of the month. 

When the amulet finally came off, Draco spent a long Friday night showing Ron how much he missed him. Since Draco's Veela methods of showing how much he wanted him were so different from the norm, Ron still didn't know the intricacies of flirting per se. Draco didn't say anything when he saw how every day a select number of girls would go out of their way to talk with Ron. He could tell that Ron was not interested. But then it all went downhill when Sprout and Sinistra assigned group projects. Draco did not protest when their Friday meetings were cut; he had the same projects. What he did rankle at was the fact that Ron was spending interminable amounts of time with some girls in the greenhouses, the Astronomy Tower, or the library out of his sight. What Veelas are the best at doing was reading body language, not just pheromones. In a way, he had shown mastery of this long before his Blossoming by invariably finding what the most hurtful thing to say to anybody was. And what Draco read now was not to his liking. It wasn't until things got way out of hand that Draco was forced to Extreme Measures. 

  
Now, he wasn't going to do anything, he told himself. He wasn't- Amanda Blake giggled as she said hello to Ron. She flipped her hair. After that, Rebecca Thurston and Theresa Pemberton squeezed in and even managed to block out Harry and Hermione. Thurston was touching Ron's arm. That's it! Whatever control he had snapped. He swooped down on those harpies surrounding Ron.   
"It's much too early in the morning for some of us to lose our breakfast," he hissed.   
Pemberton was somewhat cowed. Thurston and Blake, however, where not.   
"It's none of your business, Malfoy."   
"We can talk with whoever we want."   
"Shut up! You worthless, ugly, stupid-"   
The surrounding Gryffindors began to watch and the Slytherin began to rumble ominously. And those damned girls were still touching his Ron!   
"Let go! Let go of him you-"   
He drew his wand. Hermione cried warning, Harry's eyes widened, Ron's mouth opened, and he threw his hex. In a second, the hallway chaos, with the girls clutching at Ron, who was making desperate shooing motions at Draco, who was spitting out curses and dodging those sent his way by Finnegan and Thomas. Crabbe and Goyle, spoiling for a fight, waded in, fists swinging, Pansy took this time to go for Hermione, who had no choice but to Stun her, Neville hid behind a suit of armor and Harry was parrying the curses coming at him from various Slytherin who obviously had no idea what was going on but joined in anyway because Draco started it and some were hurling some nasty hexes at Ron because they thought he was the one to go for. He changed and swiped his claws at Thurston, who screamed. Everyone saw Draco's new form and panicked. He dove forward at the girls, knocking one over and then began to claw blindly at everyone who was in the way between him and Ron.   
"Kreee! Kraaaach! He's mine!"   
He snagged Ron, who yelled as his claws pricked into him.   
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?"   
Professors Snape and McGonagall stormed into the hallway, trailed by Filch. Everybody immediately looked toward Draco, who was still in his Veela form and possessively holding Ron. They, at the sight of the creature in the hallway who had Ron hostage, both drew their wands. Draco hissed and flared his crest. Harry ran forward.   
"Don't hurt him!"   
Everybody gaped. Harry looked pleadingly at Draco, who changed back. Both professors looked aghast.   
"What is the meaning of this?"   
"They were touching my Ron!" Draco declared.   
Yes, things just went downhill from there. 

TBC 


	13. Like being in a goldfish bowl Draco hate

Points were deducted, detentions given, and the Infirmary was flooded. Draco was informed that if he could not keep whatever inhuman impulses he had under control, he faced expulsion. Ron was blushing, Hermione was huffy, and Harry was looking at Draco like he was mad. Draco, meanwhile, was haughtily meeting the eyes of everyone, daring them to say anything about it. It didn't help that he was still holding Ron's hand and refused to go to the Slytherin table during lunch. Pansy was sniffling pathetically into a handkerchief, Crabbe and Goyle were more confused than ever, which was saying something, and the rest of Slytherin was at a dangerous state of puzzlement and anger. Draco Malfoy was holding Ron Weasley's hand. Draco Malfoy just kissed Ron Weasley on the cheek. Gag! 

  
Draco got the latest letter from his father and suppressed a grimace. Lucius was incensed. Pansy was spitefully watching him. No doubt as to who informed his father. He sneered at her and wrote his reply, very neatly telling his father to shove it. He was summarily informed with the next letter that he was disinherited and likely to be killed. Draco burned the letter. 

Snape didn't have much to say. He just looked sour. Privately, he was somewhat pleased that Draco managed to grow a backbone and become self-sufficient. In true Slytherin fashion, he acknowledged the new power Draco had and did not deem it necessary to do anything about the situation. Far be it for him to separate a Malfoy from what he wanted, even if it was a Weasley. And come to think of it, it would just mean that there would be one less Weasley breeding. A bonus if there was ever was one in this situation. And what a situation! Draco Malfoy was part Veela! Why didn't he know? Admittedly, Draco had been playing his cards very close for most of the term. And perhaps this was because when he finally laid them on the table, the results were so bizarre. Snape's mouth thinned and broadened into a parody of a smile. Ah, Narcissa, you sly witch, you. A slow, timed revenge on Lucius. Exquisite, insidious, and irreversible. Like a fine poison. And accidental at that! Snape resolved to write this down for future reference. It seems the Harry Potter Effect was good for something, unlike the Neville Longbottom Effect. 

Of course, everybody else in Hogwarts who were not witness to the Hallway Episode soon found out Draco was part Veela. With his relationship with Ron, the Slytherin House was in turmoil. Of course they disapproved, but when faced with the angry claws and beak of Draco, they were browbeaten into a sullen submission. Which was something, considering that before all this business of him Blossoming, he was an absolute weakling when it came to hands on physical violence. Now, he rendered Crabe and Goyle superfluous. Before, the Slytherin House deferred to Draco because he was a Malfoy. Draco lost his right to threaten them with his father, but gained notoriety on his own. Now, they avoided his anger because he was a part-human with no scruples about using his natural weapons. And his improved senses gave him an edge speed wise when it came to throwing hexes and curses. 

  
On the Gryffindor side, Ron got a number of strange looks. He just firmly told everyone that yes, he knew what he was doing, and no, it wasn't any of their business. Harry and Hermione stoutly stood by his side and their unconditional support really helped. Some remarks were thrown at him by some Slytherin, but it took only Draco's glare to silence them. It helped that Draco had long taken himself out of active social life by being reclusive. 

Ron got some letters as well from his family. Some shock was expressed over the fact that for all intents and purposes, he was gay. Arthur had some misgivings over Draco, but considering that he was disinherited, it was obvious Lucius wasn't condoning this. And anything that infuriated Lucius was good in his opinion. Molly wrote that whomever Ron loved was a lucky person and if Draco broke his heart, she'd be there for him with some chicken soup and a good solid Howler. Percy expressed disapproval of having a relationship with someone not all human, which was promptly flushed down a toilet. Fred and George expressed some skepticism that Ron could really like the little git who gave them so much trouble in Quidditch, but ended with a 'our ickle Ronniekins has all grown up!'. The real test was Ginny's reaction. Ron never got around to telling her about his involvement and to have her find out by hearsay wasn't the best way.   
"Ron, are you really sure?"   
"Yeah. I wrote to Mum and Dad, didn't I?"   
"But… He's so mean. And I remember he treated you and Harry and Hermione awfully."   
Ginny shook her head.   
"I don't even have the slightest idea on why you are with him in the first place."   
"It's hard to explain. But… He doesn't look down on me. Not anymore. He's the only one who's really taken the time to like me and get to know me. And he's saved me from huge spiders…"   
Ginny rolled her eyes.   
"Really huge ones. And he doesn't mind when I lose my temper and he's a good chess player, he doesn't nag me about my work or treat me like I'm stupid. He thinks I look good and he won't leave me. And lots of other things besides."   
"But Ron, why him at all?"   
"Oh. Well… I like how he's not a pushover. I like how he talked to me about everything that came to him. I like how he looks at me. Like I'm the most important person in the world to him and he means it. Even if he's whinging about something or being sulky or whatever, every time he sees me… He gets this look on his face and I… I feel good. I'm special to him. And nobody else is."   
"You know, I haven't heard you say so much about anybody else."   
Ginny smiled.   
"You two probably are meant to be together." 

  
Without consciously meaning to, Draco was back to being a fixture in Hogwarts gossip. People were paying attention to him again because now he was a novelty. Only Harry could commiserate. His powers were exaggerated and they persisted in viewing him as a 'biological slut' to use Hermione's terms. It was exasperating. Girlfriends viewed him with veiled suspicion and some of the more loudly professed straight boys avoided him. Did they not see that he was happily with Ron? Bloody fools. And then there were the people who treated him like an exhibit at a zoo. People talked about how he ate more meat now, how he didn't need to blink as much now, how he sometimes cocked his head like a bird when he talked now, how he didn't feel the cold British winter as much now, and all sorts of things he did that were different now. 

"If they don't leave me alone, I'll start eviscerating them now!" 

And then there was also the issue of people paying too much attention when he was with Ron. Really, they were only holding hands in public. But they would never be left alone. It got to the point that Ron threatened to plant his fist in the next person who mentioned the word 'henpecked'. Specifically, one Seamus Finnegan. Ron was the one who got asked the rude questions of what they did alone. None of their bloody business! Draco, being a Slytherin, didn't have those problems from his own House, and few wanted to get him mad when he only needed to glare and switch forms. Harry would quietly advise people to shush. When that didn't work, Hermione turned on her Righteous Diatribe. With Grandiose Gesticulating. As people were treated to that with SPEW, she quickly cleared hallways and rooms. Both Ron and Draco were eternally grateful. 

Ginny decided to help Draco with his clothing problem and researched. She found a charm that made clothing separate at strong stretching and meld back together once the rip's edges were realigned. That immediately won Draco's approval and partiality. Their accordance reassured Ron that his family really did respect his choice. 

  
Of course, Draco had to consider what to do with the situation of being disinherited. Narcissa wrote her condolences and reminded him that there were other ways if one was cunning and ruthless enough. He took this advice and immediately collected various sums through judicious blackmail. He couldn't depend on his mother; she wasn't in any shape to help him, being dependent on Lucius right now. And he didn't want her to fall under Lucius' anger when she was well within range while he was safe in Hogwarts. He was surveying in the slowly thawing lake from a parapet, when Ron joined him. He wrapped his arms around him from behind, and Draco leaned back easily, Ron kissing his neck.   
"What are you going to do over the summer?"   
Draco shrugged.   
"Maybe Dumbledore can think of something."   
"Why would he? Need I remind you that I'm not Harry? And doesn't he have to go back to his horrid muggle family every summer anyways?"   
Ron nodded.   
"You know, I might just hide in the Forbidden Forest again. Nothing can really hurt me, I won't go hungry, it's summer so the weather wouldn't be so bad out in the open, and I'll definitely have time to finish the summer assignments."   
"No. That's not a good idea."   
"Then what do you suggest?"   
"I just don't want you left alone."   
"Mm."   
Draco kissed Ron.   
"I'll build a nest in a tree somewhere. I'll find an owl who's cooperative and we can write. I might even become friends with Hagrid. I'm sure he'll like somebody who can subdue wild beasties for him. Don't worry. It's not like I've got a welcoming family back home anyway, despite what Mother writes."   
Ron furrowed his brow and Draco sighed.   
"Do you miss her?"   
"Honestly, no. She and I haven't been really close. Bought things for me, yes, but then, Father did the same thing. It wasn't until I began to Blossom that she had anything to do with me. I should be thankful she even bothered at all, actually. She's always let Father do all of the parenting, if you could call it that. Probably because she's been under Father's thumb for years."   
"Oh."   
Ron scratched his cheek.   
"I'm sorry."   
"For what?"   
"For not figuring out about the flirting. If I did, you wouldn't be in this situation."   
Draco snorted.   
"I would still have to declare my sentiments to Father anyway. Better here where he can't touch me than at home."   
"Will he try to come over here again?"   
"Perhaps. And I'll just go to the Forest again. But I don't see why. I'm not a real Malfoy anymore."   
"Come inside. I'll get your mind off all this."   
"Mm." 

TBC 


	14. Gryffindors: Masters of the Headlong Cha

  
Ron felt helpless. He never liked the feeling; it was not something like being angry, which one could solve by having a good fight- or discussion if one was being mature about it. Draco wasn't happy. Ron knew that he was disinherited, and no one would be happy about that, but the depth in which Draco was dropping into depression was alarming. And Ron didn't know what he could do about it. But for sure, he knew he should do something. Harry couldn't help for the situation was beyond him.   
"I hate the Dursleys. I'd break into song and dance if I got a chance to leave them for good."   
"Merlin, Harry. Never ever do that when I'm in the same room as you. You can't sing at all."   
"Ha. Ha. And Ha. I could laugh some more, only it wasn't that funny."   
"Boys."   
They glared at Hermione. It irritated them to no end when she used that tone of voice with them.   
"Girls," they chorused.   
"Back to the point. Maybe Draco didn't think his family was too bad. In our point of view, it must have been horrible to grow up that way. But in his, maybe that was the best sort of family."   
"Yeah… I remember, he bragged about all the things he got. And remember when he wouldn't shut up about Lucius? Father this, Father that, Father says."   
"So that might be it. He's cut off completely from the only family he has and he actually loved them. Realistically, he does know that Lucius is a bad father and his mother is… neglectful. But emotionally… they're all he has."   
"What about me?" Ron asked.   
Hermione raised her eyebrows.   
"What about you?"   
"Aren't I important to him too?"   
Harry coughed.   
"Of course you are," Hermione reassured him. "But not like his parents. That's totally different."   
"But all he really wants is a family, right?"   
"Could be. And to learn how to do a budget. He has no practical skills in living frugally at all. That's probably another reason he's down. He's suddenly poor."   
Ron bristled.   
"When you fall from really high up, it hurts the most," Hermione quickly added.   
Ron pondered on this. There just had to be a way.   
"Too bad he's so stuck on being a Malfoy," Harry quipped. "If he weren't, he wouldn't be so depressed."   
Ron looked up.   
"That's it! Harry, you are a genius!"   
He ran out of the Common room. Harry furrowed his brow.   
"What did I say?" 

Dungeons are dark. Dungeons have a habit of picking up damp, musty, and generally nose-wrinkling smells. They are known to drip in places where no one could find the source. They hold the cold in all too well and are occasionally filled with tunnels and passageways that have no layout that makes sense to the average person, meaning that it was highly likely you got lost if you didn't pay attention. So it was quite a sight for many Slytherin to glimpse a flash of red going full tilt through the passageways and leaving behind a lingering echo of eager footsteps. Ron skidded to a stop in front of a blank wall, gasped for breath and glanced around belatedly realizing that he had no idea what the current password was and that he was under hostile scrutiny.   
"Um… Could somebody check to see if Draco is in?"   
Glances were exchanged around him.   
"What for?"   
"I've got to see him."   
"Haven't you seen enough of him this morning? One would think you two've snogged enough for today," Pansy jeered.   
Ron stuck his hands in his pockets to keep from clenching his fists.   
"Please."   
"Go back to where you belong, Gryffindor!"   
Ron stubbornly stood his ground.   
"Please. I've got to see him."   
He looked around, and did not see a friendly face. Blaise Zabini, who had been leaning behind a column listening, slid forward. He passed Ron.   
"_Vici_."   
He motioned with one arm, and Ron nodded thanks before disappearing through the opening. The wall slid shut behind him and Zabini scanned the room with his inexpressive eyes, jaded and cold eyes. He tsked as Pansy and a few others began an angry sputtering.   
"Shut up, all of you. Do you want Malfoy to hear how Weasley was kept from him? No? Good."   
Zabini was one of the few who managed to grab the power left when Draco withdrew. He, however, understood intuitively that though Draco was out of the game, he was not to be dismissed. Zabini brushed nonexistent lint from his sleeve.   
"Few brave these dungeons, even if they are Gryffindors. Especially if they are Gryffindors. It's rather ironic, no? All that boasted courage. But this one came. And not only that, requested entrance. Politely, I might add. Weasley is worthy of our consideration."   
Pansy sneered.   
"He wouldn't be here if he and Draco weren't-"   
"In love? Of course."   
They gasped at his pronouncement. Zabini was one of those Slytherin who wonder what the whole point of even getting a crush was when there was no profit. It was inconceivable that Zabini would use the word 'love'. Draco was the past master at rumor-mongering and confrontation; wounded pride or imagined slight were enough motivation for sowing conflict. Zabini himself would certainly never allow his emotions to disturb his shark-like skills at extortion. Zabini gave Pansy a baleful smile.   
"I have seen nothing comparable to their relationship before. I choose not to interfere. Parkinson, if you must throw yourself at the claws of a Veela… Then you are welcome to it."   
Draco was in the Common Room, going over his Transfiguration notes. His head snapped up when he sensed Ron's pheromones.   
"What are you-"   
"Can we go somewhere?"   
Draco led the way to the dorms. He flicked his hand at Crabbe and Goyle, who immediately left the room and ushered all bystanders out.   
"And what did you come all the way down here for?"   
Ron grabbed both of his hands and kissed him. He was blushing and just nervous as anything.   
"Draco, I love you. Marry me?" 

There were few things that Draco would admit to shocking him. One of them was seeing Harry's disembodied head appear in Hogsmeade. Another was being charged by Harry's Patronus. And only because there were others present as irrefutable witness to him looking walleyed and terrified. Only then. As a rule, being a Slytherin predisposes one to dislike being shocked because it meant that something was not part of a contingency plan. And there always is a contingency plan with Slytherin. Ron popping down to the dungeons and proposing marriage to him was a shock. But not the unpleasant sort. No Slytherin were present to see Draco's sharp intake of breath. He recovered his composure immediately and nodded.   
"Yes."   
And the brilliant look of profound relief and love was enough to wipe whatever doubts he had in his mind about accepting the proposal. Ron kissed him again.   
"I've got to tell Harry and Hermione and-"   
Draco smiled fondly and kissed Ron. They were interrupted by a grunting cough.   
"Uhh… Malfoy? Snape says that you better get that Gryffindor out of here or else."   
Draco's eyebrow twitched in irritation.   
"Yes! Crabbe, go tell Professor Snape that he'll be gone in a minute."   
Shuffling steps disappeared.   
"Make this minute good?" Draco murmured.   
Ron leaned forward.   
"Uhh… Malfoy?"   
Draco stamped his foot.   
"What?!"   
Goyle awkwardly tried not to look at Ron, who was still holding Draco.   
"Snape says you better not be exchanging bodily fluids. Whatever that means."   
"OUT!"   
Goyle shook his head.   
"Snape says-"   
Draco muttered an obscenity under his breath. Ron suppressed a smile and allowed himself to be led out the door past a dour Professor Snape, and to the Common Room entrance.   
"I trust that whatever pressing news that just could not wait until tomorrow has been passed on?" Snape asked.   
Ron nodded.   
"Thanks for letting me stay long enough, Professor."   
Snape's eyes widened a fraction before he twitched his robes closer around himself. He was just thanked by Ron Weasley! His scowl soured further. Draco squeezed Ron's hand before the wall closed behind him. He further ruined Snape's mood by smiling languorously and disappearing into the dorms with a slight skip to his step. 

"I did it!"   
"What?"   
"Draco's going to marry me!"   
Harry blinked. Hermione dropped her book.   
"What?"   
"You said he wanted a family. I can give that to him! He'll be part of my family!"   
"Ron! Marriage is a big step and-"   
Harry shook his head and clapped his hand over Hermione's mouth.   
"Ron. You're my best friend. So I only have one thing to say. You two be happy."   
Ron grinned.   
"I've got to go owl Mum and Dad! And tell Ginny!"   
Hermione pulled Harry's hand off her mouth.   
"Why? It's ludicrous! I know they go well together-"   
"You prefer them to live together in sin?"   
Hermione crossed her arms. Harry's mouth was twitching sideways again.   
"That's not the point! Draco's parents-"   
"Disowned him."   
"Harry, it's too sudden. They've been together only since Christmas!"   
"Hermione, can't you be happy for them?"   
"I'm too worried that something will happen!"   
"Like what?"   
"I don't know. Just something. Think. The marriage of Ron and Draco. The bizarre things that just happen to you and us."   
"Oh. Yeah. Things do happen around us, huh?"   
"You think?"   
"Guess I'll just have to brush up on my curses in addition to my manners for the reception then?"   
"Harry!" 

TBC 


	15. Micromanaging Marriage, Stage One

The two boys hadn't the slightest idea on what to do next. Sure, Draco was well versed on how to behave, and Ron had attended a number of Weasley weddings. But the whole mechanics of getting married was a mystery. Hermione peremptorily declared herself Maid of Honor to get things rolling. Both Ron and Draco agreed that for all intents and purposes, she would be the most efficient at the job. She immediately began gathering information. Harry just sat by, to watch. And maybe stifle a snicker.   
"First of all, how does wizarding society view same sex partnerships?"   
"Rarely done. It's expected that marriages produce children for the purpose of furthering family lines," explained Draco.   
"Oh. But it's allowed?"   
"Of course."   
"Okay. When will it be?"   
"Soon as possible. Before summer at least."   
Hermione wrote this down.   
"Ron, have you told your parents yet?"   
"Yeah."   
"What did they say?"   
"Really surprised. Asked me if I was insane, practically. But if I want to get married to Draco, it's okay. I can make my own decisions, both of us are of age."   
"Draco?"   
"Father doesn't know yet, unless he goes through Mother's letters. Mother has given us her blessing."   
"Okay. Mr. Weasley can get the marriage license from the Ministry. Dumbledore and maybe some teachers can be witnesses. The problem is that we need Dumbledore's permission for all this. I'm not sure students can marry."   
"Not a problem," Harry said. "I went to Dumbledore this morning and he says he'll be delighted to be witness and that a Ministry official will be at Hogwarts."   
Harry got looks of surprise and gratitude. Wow. Maybe he should plan ahead more often then. Nah.   
"What about names?"   
Ron looked at Draco.   
"Surprise. I want to be a Weasley. What has this world come to?" Draco threw his hands in the air dramatically.   
Ron grinned.   
"But, it would be an obvious danger if I suddenly lose my name. Would it be all right if I take on the name as my middle name?"   
"Yeah. It's okay. As long as we're together." 

They were married on Friday. After classes, the two of them went to the Headmaster's office. Their Heads of House were also present. Ron was surprised that all it took was their signatures.   
"Ron, that was just the legal preliminaries. We," Draco shuddered. "have to go through the _wedding_!"   
"What?"   
"Honestly, you didn't think the girls will let us have it so easy, do you? And what about your mother? My mother?"   
"Oh."   
Ron blinked.   
"So, we have to go through with this? I think I like eloping better."   
Draco rolled his eyes and kissed Ron.   
"Thank Merlin Hermione had the sense to recruit your sister as bridesmaid."   
"Who's the bride?"   
"Neither of us. But we need their expertise. We just need to say no if they go overboard."   
"How can they go overboard? It's just a wedding."   
Draco sighed. 

"Oh for Merlin's sake! Not white! The implications are erroneous in our situation."   
"See? I told you so," Ginny turned a page of the catalogue from Gladrags.   
Hermione sighed.   
"I think it's a nice touch."   
Draco rolled his eyes.   
"I should say not. Look. I will not condone having Ron's robes clash with his hair. Other than that, feel free to do whatever."   
He changed his mind.   
"No pastels!"   
"No lace!" Ron added.   
Ginny giggled.   
"Right. No lace. Bouquet?"   
Ron's mouth screwed. Draco did an impressive grimace and sneer combination that would never be repeated because of the strain on his face.   
"Ginny," Harry snickered. "That was awful." 

"Is that a good idea?"   
"She has leave to go to the Riviera, Florence, Milan, Paris etc. For shopping. She can lie to Lucius and come to the wedding."   
"I don't know…"   
"Ron, she can take care of herself. She'd have to, being his wife."   
"But he's Lucius Malfoy!"   
Draco sardonically crossed his arms.   
"Why am I an only child? Ask yourself that."   
Ron blinked.   
"Remember that she is also part Veela. There are some boundaries that no male may cross with our kind, when we be sound of mind or body. Lucius may hold her prisoner by marriage, but in no other way."   
Draco wrote down Narcissa's name on the guest list.   
"Everybody underestimates her. Even Lucius."   
He smirked.   
"I will not be so blind." 

"Is this all?"   
"You want more?"   
"I was just wondering if we were done with the guest list, that's all."   
Draco leaned in, kissing Ron while picking up the list.   
"No Slytherin save Mother and Snape. Rather unbalanced, don't you think?"   
Ron shifted uncomfortably.   
"You choose, then. I can't say anything good."   
"Hmm. Really? There has to be at least one other who wasn't a total reprobate about our relationship."   
Ron shrugged.   
"Most of them have been really cold. Oh. Oh yeah… Zabini. He was okay. He gave the password for the day I proposed."   
"Marvelous."   
Draco flicked his quill artfully over the parchment.   
"And even better, he's connected. It would do us well to curry his favor."   
"Doesn't he like you?"   
Draco laughed.   
"Blaise Zabini was a business man from First Year. He likes people as much as lethifolds show mercy. We mutually maintained boundaries as a professional courtesy. I started rumors. He is an extortionist. I don't refute whatever information he has and he does not pry into my business. I ask him no favors and he asks me none. Worked very well."   
Ron shook his head. He couldn't imagine avoiding Seamus, Dean or Neville just for 'professional courtesy'. But then, he didn't room with an extortionist.   
"What about Crabbe and Goyle?"   
Draco hesitated.   
"No," he concluded. "They are a liability. I can't trust those two and I really don't want to bother."   
Ron laughed.   
"What?"   
"You'd trust an extortionist over your two thugs."   
"Humph. I haven't any need for them for a long time. And Blaise is very discreet. That's why he finds out what he does and that's why he's so successful at what he does. His grasp of the Hogwarts grapevine is stronger than a grindylowe's. Even more impressive is the fact that he hasn't landed himself in the Infirmary because of his practices."   
Draco smiled self-deprecatingly.   
"Any other Slytherin you want to invite?"   
"I think it's best if I confer with Zabini first."   
"Why's that?"   
"If any other Slytherin passes muster for him, then it means that they're so deep in a scheme of his that they wouldn't risk getting him upset. Things happen to people who get Zabini upset."   
Ron winced. 

Hermione was indignant. But Dobby was adamant.   
"Young Malfoy must have best on wedding day! Hogwarts elves will cook!"   
"But you work for the rest of the school year-"   
Dobby crossed his arms.   
"Hogwarts elves will cook. Make good big cake and food for party! Dobby make nice day for Wheezy and Young Malfoy!"   
"Harry, do something!"   
Harry shrugged.   
"Dobby, do they want to?"   
"Yes! Cook elves want very much show off! Never gets to make big cake for wedding before!"   
Dobby looked imploringly at Hermione.   
"Is happy day. Want to be part of it. Give nice feast for wedding present. Wheezy nice, good friend of Harry Potter."   
"Hermione, just give in. Besides, it means that neither Ron nor Draco will need to pay for the meal."   
That was a point that the ever practical Hermione considered.   
"Okay. The House Elves can cook. Because they want to." 

It was quickly decided that the wedding be held in Hogwarts. Hogwarts afforded greater security and most of the guests would be present as students or professors before leaving for the summer holiday. Draco continued to monitor Hermione and Ginny's decisions, but for the most part depended on Harry and his Male Point of View to keep them in line. Of course, Harry was Best Man. He was, to put it simply, lost.   
"Draco?"   
"What?"   
"I've never been to a wedding before, so-"   
"Hermione will tell you what to do."   
"Oh. But, the wedding present? I know Hermione would kill me if she knew I was asking now, but I would much rather have you tell me beforehand."   
Draco considered.   
"Learn how to dance, Harry. That's all I ask."   
"Huh? Why?"   
"You not being an embarrassment on the dance floor would be all the present I need. I can't say anything for Ron, though."   
Harry rolled his eyes 

Ron was having a hard time of it. Draco, when he wasn't trickling pheromones at him, was giving him come-and-get-it looks. Or was it get-it-and-come? Either way, Filch found their massage room and sealed it off; they weren't about to go risking the Astronomy Tower. Of course, Draco also remarked on how he wasn't about to commit a Hogwarts Cliché of that obviousness. Which was driving him crazy. Harry took pity on them and lent them his invisibility cloak. This lead to fellating and frotting more than anything else, because even though Ron was game, Draco wasn't going about to get caught cloak or not in flagrante delicto. He assured Ron that he would come up with something. 

TBC 


	16. Micromanaging Marriage, Stage Two

"Draco, I love you but you are insane!"   
Draco chuckled and nuzzled Ron's neck.   
"You really have to admit, I put the nest in love nest!"   
Ron's left eye twitched. Draco had coaxed him into the Forbidden Forest. In one of the old growth trees, Draco built a tremendous platform of sticks reinforced with dried mud and Sticking Charms. He also assured Ron that the nest cup was softened with a strong Cushioning Charm.   
"Draco, it's up a tree!"   
"More privacy."   
"It's made out of sticks and solidified dirt!"   
"Worked with what nature has to offer."   
"You are nutters!"   
"Ron. I've gone without proper sex for two weeks. You've gone without proper sex for two weeks. At this point, I'm relying on my Veela instincts here. And they say we do it up a tree. And we will."   
"Draco?"   
"Hmm?"   
"Will you always make your point while playing with my balls?"   
"You did make me promise to not resort to verbal manipulation as often."   
"So it's just plain manipulation?"   
"I would say so, wouldn't you? Like that? Yes, you do, don't you?"   
"Up. Tree. Now."   
"You're so cute when you're monosyllabic." 

Narcissa carefully adjusted her gloves. She surveyed her new surroundings. The garden was scraggy and brown with some green emerging, for spring. Perhaps there would be a profusion of lovely flowers. She could not tell now. She walked up the path leading to the door, noting how though the house was decrepit, it was obviously lived in. The porch sagged in the middle and the paint was beginning to fade. Pots of plants adorned the windowsills and the floury, buttering smell of fresh baking wafted from behind cheerfully patterned curtains. Narcissa never lived in a house like this, but it undoubtedly had a homey feeling. She lingered just before the door, letting this unfamiliar impression settle in her memory. She then stepped up, rapping the door smartly with her knuckle. She did not have to wait long. The door opened, to reveal Molly Weasley.   
"Mrs. Weasley? May I step in?"   
Mrs. Weasley wiped her hands in her apron, looking Narcissa up and down. She finally stepped aside.   
"Yes. Come this way, I'll have some scones ready in a bit."   
Narcissa followed, her eyes restlessly looking over the interior. The living room was crammed with mismatched furniture, nicked and scuffed by generations of children. The walls had no formal family portraits, but the scrawled art of children and numerous photographs. She could see some Egyptian trinkets and other memorabilia from other vacations scattered over the hand-crocheted lace doilies on the tables. There was a scorch mark from one of Fred and George's more spectacular experimental failures, old magazines and Daily Prophets, and a chess set that was playing with itself. The whole room was coalesced with remembrance and sentiment. She gingerly sat down on a squashy armchair and was struck by how it easily cradled her, a welcome. Mrs. Weasley excused herself to fetch the scones and the tea things. Narcissa relaxed. Not genteel by any measure, but quite hospitable. Yes, this would not be the ordeal she imagined.   
"Mrs. Malfoy, I have to say I'm quite surprised to see you on our doorstep."   
Mrs. Weasley set down the plate of scones and the teapot.   
"Yes, I suppose it is. I assume you know about our sons?"   
Mrs. Weasley nodded. Narcissa took a bite out of her scone.   
"Why, this is excellent!"   
Mrs. Weasley beamed.   
"Grandmother's recipe."   
Narcissa nodded.   
"This is rather awkward for me," she murmured. "I barely know how to begin."   
She sipped her tea.   
"The first thing I must say is that the prospect of my son living the married life is worrisome."   
"Why is that?"   
"He's very young. And has no way to support himself."   
Mrs. Weasley nodded sympathetically.   
"Yes, it was a shock when Ron owled me and Arthur with the news. But I'm sure they can manage."   
"I'm not too sure about that. There is the matter about where they will live after Hogwarts, not to mention this summer."   
Narcissa set her cup down.   
"Draco must not return to the Manor. It's not safe for him there. Or any other place so long as Lucius is aware of where he is. I… I don't know what to do."   
Mrs. Weasley felt a mother's empathy for another mother towards Narcissa after this admission. This elegant and cold woman felt worried over her son. A pleasant surprise. She had wondered how Draco's parents were taking this news. This was promising.   
"Draco is welcome to stay with us this summer."   
"Wouldn't that be an imposition?"   
"No trouble at all! He's part of the family now."   
Narcissa sighed.   
"Thank you. You don't know how I've thought over this and nothing has come up."   
Mrs. Weasley patted her hand.   
"Lucius has been quite difficult lately. As long as Draco is safe, I can deal with him. There are other things I want to discuss with you. The upcoming wedding."   
"Oh, yes! Ginny's owled me that they will hold it in Hogwarts."   
"Draco has been rather tight lipped about the plans. Such a boy about it, you understand. If you could give me some idea of what to expect?"   
"I've got her letters right here…" 

"Colin, I have a proposition for you."   
Hermione ignored the snickering coming from Seamus' direction. Harry rubbed his eyes from behind his glasses. They walked up and Colin had immediately stuck his camera in his face and the flash went off about three inches away from his eyeballs.   
"My retinas. Ow, my retinas. Colin, don't do that. I really don't need to know what the insides of my nostrils look like, thanks."   
Colin nodded.   
"Sure! Anything for you, Harry!"   
"Yeah. About that. Ron's getting married."   
"Wow! That's great! Who's the bride?"   
"Draco Malfoy," Harry deadpanned.   
Colin's mouth dropped open. Hermione shot an exasperated look at Harry, who snickered.   
"Anyway, since you are the resident shutterbug at Hogwarts can you, you know… clicky clicky?"   
"We want you to do the wedding photos for Ron and Draco," Hermione clarified.   
"Oh. Wow! That's- No one's ever asked me to do that before…"   
"Your first professional request."   
"Okay, sure! But… Um. The fee. How much are you paying me?"   
Hermione and Harry glanced at each other.   
"Well…"   
Colin frowned.   
"Film costs money, you know."   
"Somebody need help with funds?"   
They looked up. Blaise drifted over.   
"It would be a shame if Malfoy does not have record of such an occasion."   
He smiled. Harry wondered how Draco could claim that that was Latino hot. Blaise's smile gave you the impression of being prey sized up and found satisfactory. Hmm. Must mean something when it came to Draco's preferences. Ew.   
"I would be willing to bankroll Creevey's work, as a little wedding present for the happy couple. Sounds fair to you two?"   
"Colin?"   
He nodded eagerly.   
"It's done then," Blaise smiled again.   
"Okay. How many pictures will you want?"   
"Around a hundred and fifty to two hundred, of the party itself along with some of Draco and Ron. We need a good selection to choose from for the album."   
Colin's eyes lit up at the prospect of snapping that amount.   
"Sure!"   
"Creevey?"   
"Yes?"   
"If you would spare a minute? I have a proposition of my own for you… just a little business…"   
Hermione shuddered as she watched those two walk away, Blaise's hand in an iron grip around Colin's elbow.   
"Harry, no good could come out of that."   
"Why?"   
"Blaise?"   
He turned.   
"Yes?"   
"What part of Italy did your family come from?"   
"Sicily. Why?" 

"If I get a cold, I blame you."   
"You won't."'   
"You never know. Seriously."   
"Ron, you are irrevocably ruining the mood here. Oooh. There. Like that."   
"How much am I ruining the mood?"   
"No talking. Yesss…"   
"…Draco?"   
"What?"   
"Did the branch just crack?"   
"No."   
"What if it did? What if we end up splat on the floor of the Forbidden Forest?"   
"Ron."   
"Hmm?"   
"This tree, not to mention me, can take a lot more than what you are giving me right now."   
Ron rolled his eyes and his hips.   
"Ah! Yes!" 

"Where are those two? I've got details that Draco needs to approve and I can't find them!"   
"Hermione, relax. It's just a wedding."   
Dean winced. Seamus, exhibiting rare prudence, began to back away. Neville gulped.   
"Just a wedding?"   
Harry nodded.   
"Just a wedding!? This is the first time I'm Maid of Honor! I've got plans! Draco and Ron are going to have the perfect wedding and I need confirmation! If one thing goes wrong-"   
Harry stood right in the blast radius, showing the world that yes, he was a Hero, because only a Hero could stand the amount of ire and fury of a stressed Maid of Honor.   
"Heads will roll!"   
One thing Harry knew was that it was rude for one to take one's glasses off in middle of a tirade to wipe spittle off one's glasses, so he didn't.   
"Hermione! Hey!"   
"What!?"   
"Have some Butterbeer?" he proffered a bottle. "Just sit down, take some deep breaths and I'll take care of it. And Ginny will take care of it too. Okay?"   
Hermione was somewhat mollified.   
"But they're not here! And we haven't even gone over the-"   
"Hermione. I think they don't want to be bothered right now. Hint."   
This did no good. The sound that came from Hermione would do her House mascot proud.   
"I'm stressing out and they are having sex!? How can they do this to me!? When I get my hands on those-"   
"Uh… Ginny! Help!" 

TBC 


	17. Situation: Annoying

"Blaise, is this legal?"   
"Legality, Gryffindor, is a technicality."   
"But-"   
"Do you like the people?"   
"Um. No?"   
"Really?"   
"No. I guess."   
"It's just a little favor. For me. And Blaise Zabini always remembers those who do favors for him."   
Blaise smiled.   
"We have a deal, Creevey?"   
"Yeah."   
"Excellent. You take good pictures for the business, Creevey, and you won't need to worry about anything else." 

Hermione lost no time ranting at Ron and Draco when they finally emerged from the forest. Ron stood the haranguing, looking just a bit chastised. Being a son of Molly Weasley does that to you. Draco, however, rolled his eyes.   
"Pardon me, if my taking time off to enjoy conjugal bliss was upsetting your schedule."   
Hermione's jaw tightened.   
"Excuse me if I'm trying to do a favor for the two of you!"   
"Favor? Who said anything about a favor? I certainly don't want a favor from you."   
"Draco," Ron tugged on his sleeve.   
"No. Hermione, you took this on your own. Don't go pinning it on either of us. Understand?"   
"Fine! You can plan the wedding on your own!"   
"Who said I wanted that?"   
"You just said-"   
"Don't you understand English? You-"   
Both of them were going full tilt. Harry ushered Ron away.   
"They'll figure it out. Just save your eardrums."   
"But she's really angry."   
"Yeah. Well, be glad she's not ragging us on NEWTs. Ginny? How are the plans, anyway?" 

"Well. How organized Miss Granger is. She will go far, I daresay."   
Narcissa was flipping through sheaves of parchment of Ginny's copies of Hermione's plans.   
"She hasn't mentioned anything about rings, though."   
Narcissa put the parchment down.   
"I think I want to contribute."   
"That would be lovely, Mrs. Malfoy."   
Narcissa extended one hand.   
"Please. I wish that you call me Narcissa."   
"Then you can call me Molly."   
Narcissa smiled. 

"You can't do that," Harry was barely holding his annoyance in check.   
Draco was getting that petulant look that made everyone in his general vicinity want to strangle him.   
"And why not?"   
"This isn't Christmas holiday, you can't just decide to go into the dorms," Harry's hand was exasperatedly going though his hair, making it stick up even more. "How many times do I have to say it!?"   
"We aren't exhibitionists, Harry. Don't laugh, you prat! Both of us know effective charms that guarantee privacy."   
"But the rest of us will still know what you two are doing!"   
"Ron?"   
Ron shrugged.   
"I think we can stand not-"   
"No, we can't. What is it with you Gryffindors and overestimating yourselves?"   
Ron opened his mouth.   
"What is it with you Slytherin and being so selfish?" Harry snapped.   
"You're just jealous because you aren't getting any!"   
"What!? That has nothing-"   
"Yes it does, you spoilsport!"   
"Decency, you git!"   
"Why," Ron whispered to Ginny. "does he always have to pick fights?"   
Ginny shrugged.   
"Why do you stand it?"   
"He doesn't act like this with me. Anymore."   
"Could be because if you got mad, he wouldn't get any sex," Ginny concluded.   
"Ginny!"   
"Ron, beloved," Draco turned. "Harry says that we should do it in my dorm. Tell him how absurd that is."   
"Uh… Why?"   
Draco's left eye twitched. Harry crossed his arms, as if his point was proven.   
"Why? Do you fancy another game of Snape Says? Because I don't!"   
"McGonagall won't approve either," Harry pointed out.   
"Oh please! She's much more of a romantic than my bitter, lonely, and utterly obtrusive Head of House!"   
"Aaargh! Just do it wherever you two were doing today!"   
"And not be available when Granger starts up again? I should say not!"   
"I don't much like doing it out in the open," Ron remarked.   
Harry boggled. Draco clapped his hand to his forehead. Ginny snickered.   
"You what!?"   
"Er…"   
"You two are unbelievable! Ron, what were you thinking? Forget I said that, with what were you thinking!?"   
Harry's hair was fluffing at an alarming rate. Apparently, when really aggravated, his head was capable of magically producing copious amounts of static electricity.   
"And do you hear me? I'm sounding like Hermione! Aaargh!"   
"That settles it. We do it in Ron's bed."   
"I hate you." 

"What's your damage?" Dean asked.   
"Draco is being a git, that's what!"   
Dean nodded sagely. Harry informed them of Draco's intentions.   
"All complaints will be directed to the couple concerned. Any other remarks will be ignored. That is my final Prefect Announcement of the day, thank you!" Harry snarled.   
Neville pinked.   
"Um, Harry?" Seamus ventured.   
"What?"   
"So if that bed continues to shake in that alarming manner that it has for longer, it's not Peeves?"   
"Seamus, because I will prove to Draco that I am a decent person, I will not inflict bodily harm upon you. Just so you know, I dearly want to chop you up into itty-bitty little pieces and donate you to Snape for potions ingredients. Have a nice day."   
Harry stomped out. 

"Well, if it isn't the Expatriate," Blaise murmured.   
Draco spared him a lofty glance before sweeping into the dorm.   
"Snape is irritable," Blaise set his Arithmancy homework aside.   
Draco raised an eyebrow.   
"When is our illustrious Head of House not?"   
Blaise smiled and delicately sipped his drink.   
"Some of it can be attributed to your recent behavior. Will you want to approve the people I have added to the guest list?"   
"No. I trust you will make the right decisions."   
"Buono."   
Blaise stood, and poured some drink into another mug, offering it to Draco.   
"Have some cappuccino, Mama just owled me the special blend."   
"I thought Italians drink coffee only with breakfast."   
"True. I am also a Slytherin, and rules apply only when it conveniences me. Right now, I need it to finish my homework. Mama does not need to know."   
Draco sighed appreciatively.   
"Excellent stuff."   
"Si."   
"It has the oddest effect of making you spout Italian for no particular reason."   
"Reminds me of home."   
Draco frowned suddenly.   
"It's strange."   
"What?" Blaise warily looked up.   
"This. Sharing cappuccino, having a conversation about nothing at all. It's practically Gryffindor."   
"Si, what would our parents say?"   
Blaise shrugged.   
"Sometimes it is just good to have something nice."   
"Why couldn't we have been this cordial before? Would have saved me a lot of trouble," Draco remarked.   
"And troubled a lot in Hogwarts in the bargain."   
"Win win situation."   
"Si."   
They both snorted.   
"Not bloody likely."   
"Slytherin do not share turf."   
Both raised their mugs in mock toast. 

"How are the wedding preparations? You seem tired."   
"It's not the wedding that is tiring me out."   
"…Ah. But it is difficult, isn't it?"   
"Hermione is capable. She's even more motivated now that I'm paying her for her trouble. Unfortunately, she's being such a girl about it."   
"Explain."   
"Undue amounts of romance that she feels she must inflict upon Ron and me at odd intervals. No, we don't need so many flower arrangements, no, we don't want Flitwick to decorate with fairy lights, etc. It's enough to drive one mad."   
"With two grooms it must be something."   
"Ha. She had a conference about how the two of us were actually going to get up front. Can you imagine?"   
"What did Weasley say?"   
"Couldn't we both just walk up at the same time?"   
"Merlin."   
"I know. She wouldn't shut up for such a long time after that. It was apparently just not done."   
"Then how are you two going to do it?"   
"At the same time. Harry put his foot down. Actually mentioned Occam's Razor, if you can believe it. Simplify, simplify. The sooner it was over with, the sooner the food can be served. You've got to admit, sometimes that Gryffindor tendency to just barge through things comes in handy."   
"Whereas you were at standstill because of what was the proper thing to do."   
"Yes. And that's just one small thing in all this. Thank Merlin we are already married." 

TBC 


	18. Solution: Annoying

"Hermione, I have an observation to make," Harry adjusted his glasses.   
It annoyed Hermione to no end that with that one gesture, Harry managed to look more scholarly than she. Which was a total lie, considering his abysmal studying skills.   
"Go on."   
"Draco and Ron are having sex a lot."   
The stress of planning must have broken her Laugh Repression Muscle, because she guffawed in a distinctly unladylike manner.   
"Wow, I did not know! I was really wondering what they were doing all this time! Such a brilliant conclusion just completely escaped-"   
"Hermione. This isn't funny."   
"I mean, it's not as if Ron has 'Welcome Aboard' tattooed on his penis or anything like that, how was I supposed to know that they were having-"   
"Hermione!"   
"-sex like it was going out of style?"   
"That's it! It's more than is normal! For them, at least."   
Hermione's mouth quirked.   
"And you know what's normal for them?"   
Harry gave her a long suffering look.   
"I spent holiday with those two, remember. I know, even though I don't want to. The point is, it's starting to interfere with their outside lives. It happens all the time. Draco walks in. Looks at Ron. He drops whatever he's doing and they go at it. Or, immediately after class, Ron hunts Draco down. They go at it."   
Harry shook his head.   
"They both look completely knackered. But it doesn't stop. It's not natural. I think they have sex instead of sleeping, sometimes."   
"Hmm. Suspicious."   
"Yes! That's precisely what I've been trying to say!"   
"This needs looking into."   
"Yes!"   
"Harry, ask them why they are doing it so often."   
"Bleeeuurgh, no!" 

Harry scratched his head, causing his hair to tousle distressingly. How did Hermione manage to finagle him into this? He distinctly remembered saying no…   
"You guys?"   
He kicked Ron's bed. No reply. He sighed, covered his eyes and whipped the curtains apart.   
"You two had better be decent."   
There was no reply.   
"Guys?"   
"What do you want?" came Draco's annoyed voice.   
Harry hazarded a peek. Draco was draped over Ron, who was out cold. Both were fortunately under the covers. Draco rubbed sleep from an eye and raised an eyebrow.   
"Well?"   
"Uh…"   
Draco snorted and moved to pull the curtain shut, only to have Harry swat his hand away.   
"You two are having too much sex."   
"Harry. We are not."   
"Yes, you are. And Hermione wants to know why."   
"How rude. I don't pry into your private lives, do I?"   
"You two are having too much sex," Harry persisted.   
"Compared to you. And you aren't getting any."   
Harry sighed.   
"Harry, go away. And don't sigh like that every time I point out how you don't get any. It's really annoying."   
"I'm annoying? Look who's talking!"   
Ron made a disgruntled noise and turned over. Draco cooed and pulled the covers closer around him.   
"Harry, I mean it. You are starting to upset him."   
"Will you get back to the point and admit that you are having too much sex and then telling me why so I can tell Hermione?"   
"And what would happen if I, for some obscure reason, admit to that absurd assertion?"   
"Hermione will fix it."   
"Ah. Fix it."   
Draco's lip curled.   
"Having a sex life is not something that needs fixing, thank you. You two are the ones who need to have their brains examined. Go. Away!"   
Draco made dismissive shooing motions with his hands. Harry snorted.   
"I'm not going."   
Draco pouted. And then he smiled. Brightly. It was horrifying.   
"Okay. You can stay while I wake Ron up by fellating. I don't mind if you watch."   
"Ewww! No!"   
Harry retreated, somehow managing not to bump into anything with his eyes shut and hands clapped over his ears. 

"Harry. I am disappointed in you."   
Harry refused to feel guilty. She will not make me feel guilty. She will not- Bugger. I feel guilty.   
"I went and asked, just like you told me to. How is it my fault?"   
"I expected better from you. You just had to put him in defensive, didn't you? You just had to make him gross you out, didn't you?"   
"How was I supposed to know what to do? It's not like I'm an expert at this sort of thing!"   
Hermione sighed.   
"Fine. I'll ask."   
"He won't cooperate. Just, can't you figure it out on your own?"   
Hermione pursed her lips.   
"I suppose Ginny knows what to do with the planning. All right. I'll look into it. Both of them haven't been studying as much."   
Harry wondered if she would be so unconcerned if they were having sex in her dorm instead. 

Harry, one has to admit, knew a thing or two about situations that involve taking action. He has internalized the philosophy that in everything, there is a window of opportunity that does not wait for anyone. So he put a Full Body Bind on Draco and Ron. While they were sleeping. It turned out to be good timing, because they were slexing practically all their free time. And Harry's Hero status wasn't good enough for him to stomach the idea that he could've interrupted them in the middle of having sex. Bleeuuurgh.   
He wrapped both securely into sheets and bundled their clothing together to change into later. He then used Mobilicorpus to move them out of Gryffindor Tower and down into the kitchens. For some reason, Hermione saw fit to hold the meeting there. It was quite a job, getting those two down. Luckily, Ginny was present for crowd control and it was a Friday so the hallways were pretty clear of people. Unluckily, they woke up on the way down.   
"What is this all about?" Draco snarled once he was able to move again.   
"Could you and Ron change first?"   
Draco snorted.   
"Hermione's got something to say."   
"So why couldn't you just roust us out of bed as usual?"   
Harry shrugged.   
"Just get dressed."   
Ron nudged Draco, who was muttering to himself. Draco was pacified just a bit when Ron kissed him on the cheek. 

"That does not look good."   
Ron was looking at the parchment in Hermione's hands with trepidation. Draco nodded in agreement and tucked himself further into Ron's embrace.   
"You two have a problem."   
The back of Draco's head, which was the only thing clearly visible, managed to convey waves of disapproval and annoyance.   
"I've been doing some research… Ron, stop rolling your eyes like that. You two have a problem. It involves Draco's veela tendencies."   
Hermione tapped the parchment in front of her.   
"Veela have a breeding season."   
"I knew that!" Draco snapped.   
"Then do you know how it goes?"   
"I skipped that part. It didn't have anything to do with what I was looking for."   
Hermione restrained herself from lecturing on such poor researching skills. That would be saved for later.   
"Like most species that have breeding seasons, it happens during the spring. Which is right now. And so far, I've figured out that since you have an established mate, you are trying to conceive."   
The looks on the boys' faces were exceedingly priceless.   
"Co…con…con…"   
"We are not!" Draco sputtered.   
"Yes, you are."   
Harry snickered.   
"Um… Hermione? It's not like Draco has the right plumbing… heehee."   
"Shut up," Ron muttered.   
"Well, obviously. But Draco's body has been unreasonable before. Right now, he's automatically sending out pheromones that are telling both of them to try again and again until they get an egg. Harry, stop laughing. And because it is an automatic thing, Draco can't stop the pheromones. They will go away as soon as they get an egg or when breeding season ends. One or the other."   
"Then what's the use of telling us? We are just going to go on doing what we've been doing!"   
"Would. But I have a solution."   
Ron groaned.   
"Your behavior is excessive and annoying and it will tire both of you out! Your appetites are down, your immune systems are probably compromised, and who knows what else! And the worst thing is that you two are not studying!"   
"That's the worst thing?" Draco muttered into Ron's chest.   
"It's Hermione," Ron replied.   
"You two! This is serious!"   
Draco lifted his head.   
"What about not 'excessive' amounts of sex? Will you and Harry still bother us?"   
"No."   
Harry shook his head.   
"All right," Draco obviously did not believe them.   
Hermione lifted a cloth off of a bowl sitting beside them on the table. Harry began to laugh.   
"You are nutters," Ron managed.   
Hermione, unperturbed, took the egg out of the bowl and held it out to Draco. It was a chicken egg, Engorged to the size of a small infant, with a Preservative Charm on it to keep it from going rotten. Draco sneered.   
"And just what do you expect me to do with that oversized omelette?"   
"Take it and pretend that it's yours. I'm sure that would stop your urge to breed Ron into the ground."   
"Pretend."   
"Yes."   
"No."   
Harry managed to stop laughing enough to take up his wand.   
"Just a minute, Hermione. It's not really a Weasley kid unless it looks…"   
Harry waved his wand at the egg. It was soon speckled liberally with brown spots and had a reddish splotch on the narrower end.   
"Welcome to the world, Eggbert Weasley!"   
"Harry!" Ron snarled.   
Harry returned to laughing. Draco snorted.   
"I refuse to go through this ridiculous charade."   
Hermione stubbornly held the egg out. Draco huffed and grasped it. He looked at it, turning it around and around in his hands.   
"I feel nothing except for an urge to have this fried with some salt for flavor. Congratulations, you have failed. May we leave now?"   
Hermione sighed.   
"Change. Now!"   
Draco tossed his head, sniffed imperiously, and changed. Not because Hermione ordered him to, mind you, but because he wanted to. He looked at the egg in his claws.   
"I still don't feel anything. Except hungry."   
Hermione sighed and grabbed at the egg. To everyone's surprise, Draco's crest flared and he snapped his beak at her.   
"Kreaach!"   
Draco blinked. Hermione grinned.   
"Well. Looks like I was right after all."   
"I hate you."   
Harry continued to laugh. 

TBC 


	19. Eggsitting Literally

"Draco, is there something I should know about the reasons of you marrying Weasley?"   
Blaise regretted his statement because Draco was giving him the murderous look he used to reserve for Harry.   
"This is my egg. No, I didn't lay it. This is Hermione's solution to the 'problem' of me and Ron having too much sex. Interfering Gryffindors. I could spit!"   
His careful tucking of the said egg into his spare bed sheet belied his angry words.   
"Clever girl," Blaise murmured.   
Draco glanced at him and shrugged. He changed and carefully maneuvered himself, lowering himself onto the egg.   
"Hand me my Herbology textbook. I might as well do something productive."   
Blaise wordlessly tossed the book to Draco and returned to his own homework. He had to admit, it was entertaining to watch Draco opening the book and flipping pages with exaggerated care so as not to damage the book with his claws. The peace was ruined by the entrance of Crabbe and Goyle. They took one look at Draco and began to obviously sidle towards their half of the room. Draco chittered irritably to himself and ignored them. They subsided, Crabbe reading and dripping drool onto a textbook and Goyle laboriously blotting an essay for Snape. It wasn't until one of them noticed Draco ducking his head between his legs that the peace was broken.   
"What are you doing?"   
One angry yellow eye swiveled and met Crabbe's face.   
"What does it look like?"   
Crabbe's blocky face was showing, of all things, prurient curiosity.   
"Uhuhh…"   
He had the temerity to snicker. In the perverted manner boys do when they think of perverted things. Draco's crest flared and Crabbe flinched.   
"For your information, I was turning my egg! So stop thinking sick thoughts! Of all the times for you to be thinking at all!"   
"Egg?"   
This was Goyle's contribution. Blaise looked up, lazily and easily suppressing his smile.   
"Yes, egg! I'm incubating! So shut up or get me something to eat because I can't leave it!"   
Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other. Crabbe solicitously got up and left, presumably to mug some poor Third Year for their Hogsmeade sweets. Goyle shifted and returned to his essay, occasionally glancing at the speckled egg. His brow crinkled as a conclusion slopped and gurgled out of the muddy bog that was his mind. 

Ron was a bit concerned when he didn't see Draco during breakfast. He figured that they could meet during the small period between classes. Unfortunately for the day, he was greeted by Pansy Parkinson.   
"What a freak!" she sneered at him.   
He rolled his eyes and walked on.   
"Already doing the only thing Weasleys do best, I hear," another Slytherin giggled to their friend.   
"And with Malfoy!"   
Merlin, what was with them today? Being with Draco wasn't a novelty anymore! It wasn't until he saw Draco doing that slow boil of his that he had any idea that something was wrong.   
"What's happened?"   
Draco's frown didn't disappear as he kissed Ron.   
"They found out about the egg."   
"Oh."   
"The ignorant swots rooming with me are not convinced that it's not really mine! It doesn't look like any chicken egg they'd seen before, the idiots! So they go and blab to everyone! Everyone!"   
"They can't believe Crabbe and Goyle!"   
"The egg is there, Ron. That's all the proof they need."   
"Can't you-"   
"Not without telling them why I've got it in the first place. Send Hermione my hate when you see her today, will you?" 

"Draco sends his hate."   
Hermione nodded equitably.   
"But I'm right."   
Ron felt rather irked. With Hermione, as long as she was right, all was right in the world. And that Lockhart bit didn't work for knocking her off her high horse anymore.   
"Look. I know you are just trying to help but now people are being a nuisance again. Draco shouldn't have to deal with this."   
"It's what's best for you right now. After you two leave Hogwarts, you can do whatever you want when you want. You can even jeopardize your future jobs in favor of having sex without my nagging at all. Is that too much to ask?"   
"Maybe."   
Hermione sighed.   
"I'll do something about it."   
She did. Hermione, like many nerds, had the ability to make anything sound positively academic and boring. She also learned, and viewed this as Draco's bad influence, to interrupt. So she cut into anybody discussing "The Egg" with her most creative biological theories. To that end, she succeeded in getting the gossips to back off. 

Draco, of course, spent a lot of time incubating said Egg. Now it was Snape's turn to host someone not of House and he was definitely not appreciative of McGonagall's prim support of the couple's habits.   
"After all, Severus, they are married. We were witnesses. It's entirely within their rights to spend time together. And they do go well together, don't they?"   
Snape rued the day he witnessed Minerva's romantic streak. Apparently a woman was a woman, no matter how withered up they became from age and teaching brats. It also didn't help that Ron was better than Harry at being diffident in order to catch less ire. Being a son of Molly Weasley does that to you. So Snape had to endure Ron's entering the Slytherin Common Room for studying. Fortunately, they did exactly that instead of the much more aerobic and vociferous deed that he knew both preferred. He didn't know if he could resist dousing them with something acidic if they did have sex. Pity. He had extra stores of manticore blood that was not going to be used in the foreseeable future. And then those two twits invited him to their wedding party! He'd refuse. Well. Draco was a good student. And it would twist Lucius' nose when he found out. Maybe… No! Festivities. Happiness. Dumbledore happily festive. His insides convulsed at the idea of voluntarily subjecting himself to that. Outside of Christmas. Snape sighed. Wasn't he an ex-Deatheater or wasn't he? He could stand it. It would make Draco happy. Drat. He was going soft.   
Blaise was never one to be affected by the sometimes embarrassing shows of affection he witnessed over the years in Hogwarts. Draco and Ron, however, disturbed his neat method of dismissing emotional displays. All they did was study, with Ron reading out loud for Draco while Draco sat on the Egg and occasionally rearranging Ron's hair with his beak. Sometimes, when Ron was working on his own homework, Draco would rest his head on Ron's shoulder and Ron would absently reach back and pet Draco's crest. It was an intensely private tableau that he witnessed and he felt for the first time in his life, wistful. 

Ron was sleeping. Blaise was staring into the fireplace, watching the embers gutter and Crabbe and Goyle were snoring. Draco reached out with a clawed hand and pulled the covers up to Ron's chin. He shifted, sighed, and continued to sleep. Draco stretched, his wings shuddering.   
"How long does Granger expect you to incubate?"   
Draco considered. The question was innocuous enough, but one never knew when it came from Blaise Zabini.   
"Until the last exam is finished."   
"Then what?"   
Draco shrugged.   
"I've noticed I'm not the only one fraternizing with Gryffindors," he remarked.   
"Ah?"   
Draco did not repeat himself.   
"Creevey is doing a favor."   
So it was safe to mention. Good.   
"What can Creevey do for you?"   
Blaise's smile became entirely anticipatory.   
"It is my business."   
Draco nodded. He didn't think Creevey would stoop down to taking blackmail photos for Blaise's benefit, but then, Blaise could afford to pay him off. 

"Aren't they lovely?"   
Ginny was staring at the two rings nestled in their velvet box. Platinum bands with a single embedded diamond solitaire glinted up at her.   
"Not gaudy in the least. Mrs. Malfoy has taste," Hermione carefully lifted one ring up. "It's even got their names engraved inside, see?"   
Ginny nodded.   
"They are so pretty."   
Ginny began to giggle.   
"I don't think Ron will have the heart to wear his!"   
"Why not?"   
"Hermione, a ring like this is probably worth four or five months of Dad's salary. Ron's brain would implode just thinking about wearing that much on his finger!"   
Hermione shrugged.   
"Mrs. Malfoy contributed. I'd say he'd better wear it."   
She turned the ring about, letting the sunlight show off the diamond.   
"Besides, he's such a boy. He'd probably only think about how shiny it is."   
She put it back into its box.   
"Mrs. Malfoy even got them House neutral. I expected silver and emeralds."   
Ginny nodded in agreement.   
"I hope she can help me go shopping along with you once I get to be a bride!" 

The end of term was near. Anyone involved in the wedding got out their dress robes or bought new ones. Hermione was still frazzled until Ginny convinced Harry to chip in and they both presented her with a certificate to an exclusive spa in London for her efforts. Now that took some research, considering that Harry had no previous knowledge whatsoever about spas and Ginny had only the vaguest idea that a spa was a place to go to get some relaxation and pampering. Fortunately, Mr. Weasley was kind enough to lend them his collection of Muggle phone books. Unfortunately, Hedwig, Pigwideon and Errol refused to follow any further orders from then on for the rest of the term. But, Hermione would get some much needed time off. Which as worth the trade off of not having obedient owls, in their opinion. 

TBC 


	20. Pathos

Blaise carefully lifted up the Egg, mindful of Draco.   
"Such a cute bambino."   
Draco's crest rippled.   
"Your sense of humor has much to be desired."   
Blaise shrugged and contemplated the speckled hypothetical offspring.   
"Potter has quite an artistic eye. The resemblance to your husband's freckles and coloring is striking."   
"Is there a point to your scrutiny?"   
Blaise shrugged.   
"I am curious, that is all. You always keep it under wraps."   
"For a good reason. I can't let anything happen to it."   
"How strange."   
Draco shrugged.   
"I don't look forward to parting with it. But I think…"   
Draco changed, and took the egg, his fingers splaying over it's cool surface.   
"A formal good bye before the wedding. And Hermione can take care of it for me."   
Blaise's eyes narrowed in mirth.   
"My uncle in Chicago tells me what that really means. Murder."   
Draco snorted.   
"Perhaps. But what can we do? It was all Hermione's idea." 

"Ginny told me that everything was done. Now what?"   
Ginny gave her brother an exasperated look. Hermione just continued her march, dragging on Ron's arm.   
"The wedding is tomorrow. The last exams are done, and everyone's getting ready. You have to get ready too."   
"All I have to do is change into my new robes."   
Both girls rolled their eyes.   
"No. You need to be all nice. For Draco. Really, Ron, have you seen your fingernails?"   
"He likes them a little long."   
"What?"   
He didn't answer. Or, rather, the reddening of his ears answered for him.   
"Oh. Just get them neater than they are now."   
"Mrs. Malfoy sent us this," Hermione showed him a basket. It was filled with pastel colored bottles and tissue wrapped packages.   
They entered the Prefects' Bath. Hermione sat down on a changing bench. Ron, sensing a lecture, sat next to her. Ginny was staring at the décor.   
"That mermaid looks tacky."   
"This is shampoo."   
"I know what shampoo is."   
Hermione repressed her eye roll.   
"And this is conditioner. After you rinse out your hair put this in and rinse it out."   
"Why?"   
"It makes hair softer."   
"So why can't shampoo do that?"   
"Because shampoo is for cleaning."   
Ron's eyebrows were crinkled.   
"Why can't there be shampoo and conditioner together when we have something like Pepperup Potion? It shouldn't be too hard."   
"Because the combination leaves a residue. Shall I suggest this as a new project for Professor Snape or shall we continue?"   
Ron motioned with his hand.   
"It wouldn't hurt for Snape to look into it though," Ginny grinned. "Personal benefits are obvious."   
"This is soap."   
Ron rolled his eyes.   
"This is moisturizer. No comments. Just rub it in after you rinse off the soap and leave it."   
"Leave it?"   
"Leave it. Hmm… Tap this loofah with your wand and it should get rid of skin flakes. I hear these things have a really strong scrub so use it manually for the more sensitive parts."   
She shifted some bottles.   
"This is… depilatory potion. Mrs. Malfoy's humor, I guess. I don't know what hair you want to get rid of, but your leg hairs are a good start."   
"What?"   
"I'm not explaining everything. That's it, I guess."   
Hermione set the basket down on the bench and both girls left. Ron sighed at all the new complications added to the previously simple act of washing himself and got started. 

Draco returned from the library after dropping off the last of his borrowed books. He yawned and changed, a claw reaching out to pull back his covers. He stood very still, his pupils constricting. His neck craned forward, his beak pecking desperately at the sheets, his claws shredding them.   
"Kreeeeaaach! Bastards! Kreee!" 

Ron looked up. Percy, as pedantic as he was, did have a valid point about Weasleys being serially monogamous. It wasn't long after becoming officially married to Draco that he began to exhibit married Weasley behavior. Such as knowing just when Draco was near and quickly knowing his moods. Draco's face was immobile, despite Ron's greeting. Ron opened his arms, and Draco ducked into them, all of his muscles tense. Ron quickly backed into an alcove and tilted Draco's face up. His eyes were downcast and suspiciously bright.   
"What happened?"   
Draco shook his head.   
"What?"   
Draco's speech was muffled into Ron's robe.   
"The Egg. I left it alone for just a few minutes. And. It's been smashed."   
"It's okay."   
"No, it isn't! It's my Egg! Our Egg! And it's dead!"   
Ron sighed and began to rub Draco's back, trying to soothe Draco's shaking.   
"Draco… It wasn't real. And nothing's happened."   
"Yes, it has! It was my responsibility and I failed."   
"Draco. You watched over it as much as you could. You did great. It's not your fault. Accidents happen."   
Draco was silent.   
"It wasn't an accident."   
Draco's voice got stronger.   
"Somebody. Smashed. It!"   
"Then do something about it."   
Ron pressed his cheek against Draco's   
"Get it out of your system. Staying angry for a long time doesn't do anybody any good. I should know. Okay?"   
"Yes." 

"Blaise."   
He looked up.   
"Yes?"   
Draco tossed him a bag of Galleons.   
"I want you to do something for me."   
Blaise set the Galleons aside.   
"No haggling?"   
"No."   
Blaise leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers.   
"What is it?"   
"My Egg. I know that somebody smashed it. It was not an accident, and I want you to find them. And I want them to suffer."   
"You were going to have it 'taken care of'. What is the fuss?"   
"I choose when. And somebody has decided to take that away from me. They bashed it in, the yolk was all over my sheets… smeared. Like blood. On the night before my wedding. Need I explain more?"   
Blaise shrugged.   
"That will be difficult."   
"I know that it was not a male who smashed my Egg. I would be ripping him apart otherwise. You know I know every male's pheromone signature by now."   
"Ah."   
Blaise's face took on a far away look. Draco waited.   
"I think… I will not take your money."   
"I will not let this happen without retribution!"   
"That is not what I meant."   
Draco quickly got himself under control.   
"A favor, then."   
Blaise shook his head.   
"In all our years in Hogwarts, you have never come to me, offered me your friendship. I would do… many things for a friend. You were polite. Wary, which was wise. But never my friend."   
Draco walked forward, and offered his hand.   
"Would you be my friend? Blaise?"   
Blaise took it.   
"Yes."   
He stood up, and patted Draco's back.   
"Do not fret. Your Egg's passing will not be in vain. I promise." 

TBC 


	21. Jubilation

"You know, I'm actually nervous. Weird."   
Ron smoothed the front of his new dress robes. Harry was sitting on his bed, his feet dangling over the edge and swinging with excitement. Ron glanced at him and both grinned at the same time, Ron flopping down on his own bed.   
"You'll get it wrinkled," Harry practically chirped.   
He was really hyped up. Unlike the calamity that was the Yule Ball, this he was looking forward to. This was Ron and Draco's show; they were the center of attention. Which mean he didn't even need to get a date for himself. No pressure, no worries. Yes! He managed to learn how to dance thanks to coaching from Ginny and Lavender. He had a feeling Draco was just being the usual jerk when he told him to learn how to dance, but he really didn't know how to dance. So now he did. He was Best Man, Hermione told him what to do, he had the rings all safe in his pocket, he was going to eat chocolate cake. He resolved to find some way to annoy Snape. And… He brushed up on his curses. So it was going to be a good party. He scooted off his bed, and grabbed Ron's arm.   
"Hermione'll be ready in a few. Let's go!"   
They met up with Hermione and Ginny, endured the girls' scrutiny of their robes and were pronounced acceptable. With the rest of the invited Gryffindors, they trooped down the tower stairs. 

The wedding party was being held outdoors on the lawns leading to the Forbidden Forest. Professor Sprout grew a living arbor of vines and flowers as a backdrop for the ceremony. A wooden dance floor was conjured up just for this occasion and the small tables from the Yule Ball were also there, with centerpieces of glistening and unpopping iridescent bubbles, courtesy of Professor Flitwick. The Slytherin contingency were not there yet. A conglomeration of redheads was streaming towards them from the direction of Hogsmeade.   
"Mum! Dad!" Ron waved.   
Even Bill and Charlie were present, and there was much back slapping and hugging. Molly was wiping her eyes already with her handkerchief.   
"You look so handsome in that robe, Ron!"   
Ron smiled self-consciously. Hermione and Ginny settled on a warm bronze color for it, trimmed with dark chocolate brown and gold. The effect made his hair pop in intensity and his eyes' blue to deepen.   
"Hello," Narcissa stepped forward. "You must be the one who's made my son so very happy."   
Ron shook her offered hand.   
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy."   
"Mother."   
Narcissa turned. Draco walked up, and she air-kissed his cheek.   
"Late as fashion dictates, Draco?"   
"It hasn't started yet. As if I'd be late for this," he took Ron's hand.   
Narcissa smiled archly and went to find a seat.   
"Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley. I'm glad you came."   
Harry held back his smile when Draco was unceremoniously enveloped into the patented Weasley welcoming hug. Molly stepped back.   
"You look wonderful too. Welcome to the family, dear."   
Draco's robe was a frosted green with gray and emerald green trim. Standing next to Ron, the impression was freshness and clarity, the brown and green an emblem of spring and growth. The Weasleys also left to find seats. Harry and Hermione went to help seating the newly arriving guests. Draco smiled at Ron.   
"You look positively edible. All cinnamon and chocolaty."   
"Down, Draco."   
"In front of everybody? My, aren't you the exhibitionist."   
"Draco…Quit trying to piss me off."   
Draco pouted.   
"But you're so glorious in bed when you're pissed off!"   
"Oh, you're definitely going to get what's coming to you."   
"Promise?" 

Hermione frowned. Pansy Parkinson and her friends were making their way towards the party area. The wedding was a known event, but they had nerve coming to where they were not invited.   
"Invited guests only."   
Pansy smirked.   
"We have invitations. See?"   
Hermione surveyed the card she managed to politely wrench from Pansy's grip. It was inconceivable. But, she plastered on a smile.   
"Find a seat, then."   
She turned and found Draco and Ron.   
"Is that a good idea?"   
She pointed at the group. Draco stopped nuzzling Ron and at the sight of Pansy and her gang, bared his teeth.   
"What are they doing here?"   
"I thought you'd invited them."   
Draco sneered.   
"That cow and her sycophantic pack of cackling hens can rot!"   
"Then why are they here? They have invitations."   
"Forgeries."   
Hermione held the card up.   
"The parchment and ink check out."   
Draco snorted and closed his eyes. When he opened them, they alighted on another just arrived guest.   
"I'll get the explanation for this." 

Blaise was leaning against a stone urn, an enigmatic look on his face as Draco approached. Harry would later say that both had the air of snakes wary and ready to strike at a moments notice. And he should know.   
"Lovely event," Blaise smiled.   
"Indeed. However, it is marred by the presence of indubitably unwelcome people. At my wedding. You do have an explanation for this."   
Blaise nodded.   
"It was just a few deals…" he shifted slightly under Draco's withering glare. "A dozen deals I made. I let it be known that anyone who wished could be on the guest list. For a price."   
"You dared."   
Blaise held one finger up.   
"I keep two percent for dealing with them. You and your husband receive the rest of the sum. My wedding present to you."   
Draco lifted his chin.   
"You presume entirely too much."   
"I am a practical person, Draco. You and your husband need ready cash. Which I can provide. And I do. Is it not better to skin those you dislike than to pluck from friends?"   
"What was the price?"   
"Five hundred galleons gets them an invitation. You approve?"   
"Yes. But it comes to the matter about why anyone was willing to pay such a gauche amount to attend my wedding."   
"Your name still has cachet, Draco. And, I also let it be known that it was I who was responsible for the guest list. In its entirety. The fee was therefore, expected of me."   
"Of course."   
"They will behave, Draco."   
"Unless you wish more profit before this is over."   
Blaise shrugged.   
"There is also another reason. Retribution will come today."   
Draco's demeanor turned to ice.   
"She's here? You-"   
"Soon she will be punished and you will take her money. You will not be implicated and you will watch the reckoning."   
Draco paused, automatically savoring that idea, as he was wont as a Slytherin.   
"I thank you for your generosity. However, you will understand that both of us will not be on speaking terms for some time?"   
"Entirely understandable."   
Draco gave him a curt nod and returned to Ron.   
"What happened?"   
"Blaise capitalized on an opportunity."   
Hermione puffed in indignation.   
"How could-"   
"Hermione, shut it. He did us a favor."   
"How-"   
"Slytherin business. Keep your nose out of it."   
Draco's tone brooked no further argument. 

The last of the guests took their seats. Everyone turned expectantly. Hermione and Ginny walked down the aisle first, standing behind Harry. Then, Ron and Draco, stopping under the arbor, facing each other. There was a hush. Draco could feel his heart beating, could sense the anticipatory nervousness of Ron. He winked, and Ron's mouth cracked into a grin. They recited their vows together, perfectly in unison.   
"I come here today to join my life to yours before this company. In their presence I pledge to be true to you, to respect you, and to grow with you through the years. Time may pass, fortune may smile, trials may come; no matter what we may encounter together, I vow here that this love will be my only love. I will make my home in your heart from this day forward."   
"Ronald Weasley."   
"Draco Malfoy."   
They exchanged rings and kissed. The twins whooped and shot off sparks from their wands and soon, everyone was following suit, clapping and cheering. 

House elves believe cakes should be constructed like the adobe buildings of Mexico. The four tier chocolate wedding cake was solid, rich, and downright gastronomically imposing. It was delicious. Each slice was topped with mousse and a chocolate frog with the jump gone. Harry thoughtfully decided to commemorate the impetus to their first kiss, secretly telling Dobby to add that last minute touch. It was worth it to see both Draco and Ron unabashedly grinning at each other after they caught sight of the cake. 

They whirled into a lively first dance together. Draco had more inherent grace and Ron had more energy. Later, Ron danced with his mother and Draco danced with his mother. Harry was surprising everyone by dancing all dances, including with Millicent Bulstrode, who apparently knew how to do an expert salsa. Narcissa even gave him a compliment on his quickstep and his strong lead. He waved at Draco, who rolled his eyes in return. Ginny exercised her right as the sister and sister-in-law to the grooms and as a Gryffindor by asking Snape to a dance. His eyes shuttered suspiciously and with distaste, but under the remonstrating look from Dumbledore, took her up on a waltz. Due to this precedent, Snape was not without a partner until he decided to forcibly capture the bar and mix drinks for the rest of the party. And in his opinion, that was a far better pastime in a party than dancing. 

Blaise circled near.   
"Draco."   
"We aren't speaking."   
"Perhaps. Crabbe and Goyle request audience with you."   
Draco's face hardened.   
"They should not be here at all."   
Blaise made an eloquent motion with his shoulders.   
"True. But they were not expecting to be invited. They wish to express gratitude."   
Draco gave Blaise his annoyed expression.   
"For the price?"   
"I did not make those two pay."   
Blaise walked off before Draco could question him. Crabbe and Goyle approached. They looked distinctly ill at ease.   
"We want to thank you for inviting us to your wedding."   
"And we hope that you will be very happy with your husband."   
Draco could do nothing but accept the obviously rehearsed lines of wishes the two laboriously gave him. But there were underlying tones of sincerity and when he nodded to them as custom, they smiled. Everything was all right. They pledged their eternal support and left Draco to muse on Blaise's grasp of the inter-relations of Slytherin House. 

"What will it be?"   
Narcissa deliberated.   
"Negroni. If you can manage it?"   
"Narcissa, if that is a challenge, I'll have you poisoned."   
"Still the wonderful conversationalist, I see."   
"Humph."   
"All right. Be that way. Give me a Screaming Orgasm."   
She smirked when the junction between his nose and forehead broke out in wrinkles. He gave her a very affronted look.   
"Narcissa!"   
"Well? Are you up for it?"   
He brought the cocktail shaker down a bit more forcefully than necessary.   
"Lucius must be falling behind on his husbandly duties if you must go about being a brazen."   
Narcissa's lips tightened at the mention of her husband.   
"I see. Still the same old sour misanthrope."   
She fluffed the feathers on her collar in what could be a businesslike fashion.   
"You need somebody. I can make arrangements."   
Snape did a full body twitch.   
"If you are implying what I think you are implying, I'll force an acid down your miserable throat."   
"What do you think I am implying?"   
Snape pushed a finished concoction at her. She took it and sipped.   
"You did give me a Screaming Orgasm after all. Lovely."   
Snape snorted.   
"Now be gone!"   
Snape shuddered again as Narcissa walked away. He really didn't need her interfering with his life. Dumbledore was bad enough, but at least the old man wasn't on a matchmaking kick. He suppressed a groan when he saw a grinning Harry Potter.   
"Hi."   
"What do you want?"   
"Give me a Blowjob."   
One horrible thing about being a teenager in the 70's and a Potions Master was that one was bound to know unfortunately named novelty cocktails. And to gall him, Harry even imbibed it all with one gulp and without hands, as custom called for with that infernal drink. Damn.   
"Pointless displays done with?"   
Harry shrugged.   
"How about you serve me a Hard Dick instead of snarking?" 

Draco tilted his head a bit.   
"You look unhappy. Unacceptable."   
Hermione shook her head after Draco guided her around Fred and Angelina's perilously flying heels.   
"I'm just thinking about how I'm only going to dance with you, Harry and Ron."   
"Oh, Hermione. Look at all these men," Draco jerked his chin. "There's bound to be someone just for you."   
"How sweet of you. Quite a surprise."   
Draco snorted.   
"Please. I'm genuinely sure that there's some poor soul out there that thinks your personality is endearing instead of annoying-"   
Hermione smacked his shoulder.   
"-or violent."   
Draco became distracted, moving Hermione around the dance floor with a slightly curious frown.   
"Now what are you thinking of?"   
"You know how I'm sure there's someone for you?"   
"Yes."   
"Mm. Someone's pheromones double when you dance by," he announced with relish.   
Hermione's eyes widened.   
"Are you sure?"   
"Very. In fact… Something's up, and I'm not talking Slytherin schemes."   
Hermione smacked Draco's shoulder again.   
"Draco! That's a breach of privacy!"   
"So you don't want me to tell you who is very attracted to you?"   
Draco smiled and waited as Hermione debated with herself.   
"You aren't having me on?"   
"One time offer. And you know that I have special knowledge of such things."   
Hermione shrugged.   
"Fine. Who is it?"   
"Zabini."   
Hermione snorted.   
"Really. You just had a stand off with him and now you say he's looking at me?"   
"He did me and Ron a favor. In a supremely obtuse fashion. I think I can return the favor in an equally obtuse fashion."   
"How?"   
"Zabini wants to hug you, he wants to kiss you, he wants to-"   
Hermione smacked him again to stop his singsong.   
"Be serious!"   
"I am. Zabini is a very reserved person. In fact, this is the first time I've detected any amount of attraction to any girl from him. If memory serves, he even complimented you. And Merlin knows how often that's ever happened for either gender."   
"When?"   
"Doesn't matter. Go on, talk with him."   
"Why?"   
"Must you be so difficult? Just go up to him. He's certainly not going to make the first move. Put him out of his misery."   
"What an interesting choice of words, Draco."   
"Isn't it? But really. He's not bad. He's got brains. He's interesting. He's Italian."   
Hermione glanced to where Blaise was sipping his drink, watching other people dance.   
"Are you sure?"   
"Go on."   
The song ended. Hermione inhaled, and squaring her shoulders, went toward Blaise. Draco smirked as he felt Blaise's pheromones jump and become tinged with a whiff of adrenaline. Let's see how he can deal with this surprise. Draco watched, noting how Blaise kept his calm demeanor. He felt slightly disappointed, until he noticed Blaise fingering his silver armbands. Ha. A nervous tic, and one that was never observed before. Victory! 

Draco grinned to himself as he made his way to get himself a drink. Ron found him, wrapping his arms from behind.   
"What would you like?"   
"Hm. Something… tall, strong, and _hot_."   
Ron chuckled.   
"Guess Butterbeer's out?"   
Draco turned his head and licked Ron's earlobe.   
"I'm thirsty for this."   
Ron's ear pinked as Draco began to lightly nibble.   
"Not here…" Ron gasped out.   
"Mmm…"   
"…Ooooh…"   
"Pardon, but you two should save that for when there isn't an audience."   
Harry was treated to the accustomed glower from Draco. Ron blushed and coughed.   
"Harry. Just because you aren't getting any doesn't mean you can go and ruin our fun."   
Draco smirked as Harry rolled his eyes and sighed in annoyance.   
"That has nothing-"   
"The great Harry Potter isn't getting any," Draco repeated with greater delight.   
"Shut up."   
"The Greaaaat Haaaarry-"   
"Draco Malfoy screams like a girl."   
Draco's jaw snapped shut.   
"You bastard."   
Harry raised his glass in toast and walked away, chuckling. 

Squeals broke the happy atmosphere of the party. Pansy's friends were backing away, as she violently regurgitated her slice of wedding cake. Her face was a terrible shade of green and she didn't stop, dry heaving long after the vomit ruined her dress robes. Everyone was watching with shock and disgust. Mrs. Malfoy took out her handkerchief and held it to her nose. Colin, of course, snapped a picture. Draco's lips curled and he tightened his hold on Ron to keep himself from doing anything rash, after noticing Blaise's intensely pleased look. She was the one. Professor Snape was the first to reach her. His nostrils wrinkled under the assault of the smell.   
"Mrs. Parkinson, you need to go to Madam Pomfrey's."   
Snape reached out with one hand and holding her shoulder with a thumb and forefinger, jerked her upward.   
"I suggest a prescription of a strong laxative. Someone has dosed you with Vomito Elixir. You won't keep down anything else you eat otherwise."   
Pansy's eyes widened.   
"Who-"   
"You are unwell. Go."   
Only the few such as Harry who had experience with the nuances of Snape's voice knew that he found this entire ordeal entertaining. Pansy left, her friends trailing behind her. Snape was sniffing a plate of cake. People were nervously watching. Snape picked up the fork, delicately skewered a piece and tasted it.   
"Chocolate. Good quality Swiss chocolate. And nothing else untoward."   
He glared at his audience, daring them to question the Potions Master of Hogwarts.   
"Carry on."   
He popped another piece of cake in his mouth. 

"How horrible!"   
Hermione was surprised to see Blaise's soft smile.   
"La giustizia è cieca."   
Hermione's lips pursed.   
"I'll look that up, you know."   
"As you wish."   
"And you were probably behind what happened to Pansy, weren't you?"   
Blaise's expression clouded.   
"Hermione... with all my respect, I tell you. Do not question my business. I might have to take certain measures. And regret does not suit me."   
Hermione's investigative expression did not leave, nor was she daunted.   
"You think I might be in danger from you?"   
She smiled challengingly and Blaise's eyes narrowed.   
"You might."   
"Hmph. You Slytherin. Always misbehaving and thinking you have that market cornered."   
"I confess I do have certain monopoly in certain things."   
"I don't think you've gotten into half as much trouble as Fred and George. And they are Gryffindors."   
"Trouble is when you get caught."   
Hermione's mouth quirked.   
"Harry and Ron would agree to that."   
"Harry Potter misbehaves?"Blaise's eyebrows rose.   
Hermione grinned.   
"Surprised?"   
"It is news to me. I can't say I like being uninformed."   
"Well. We have that in common at least."   
"Yes."   
"I don't follow the rules all the time. In fact, I've done some things that Snape would give me detention for in a heartbeat. How do you like that?"   
Blaise stepped forward and leaned in, his breath tickling Hermione's ear.   
"Look this up, then. Desidero misbehave con voi tutta la notte lungamente."   
And then, shocked by his own boldness, he stepped back and was about to escape, when Hermione grabbed his arm and drew her wand, twirling it.   
"Little spell I read up... translates any language as long as it's based off of Latin. If you've insulted me, I want you to be around for the consequences. Something called fair play, Slytherin. Game?" 

Draco chuckled to himself.   
"What are you laughing at?"   
"Who says I'm laughing at anything?"   
"Because you aren't laughing with."   
Draco gestured toward where Blaise was leaking adrenaline and pheromones like mad.   
"Ron, beloved, look. Granger has a victim. Isn't it funny?"   
"Zabini? What...? Oh."   
Draco laughed. Blaise was making an abortive attempt to lead Hermione farther away from the party. She relented and they walked off together.   
"He likes her."   
"Hermione? But she's so... Hermione."   
"That's what's funny, of course. I hope she doesn't do anything too outlandish. He's a very useful contact."   
"You've been standing still too long, in my opinion. You're scheming too much."   
Draco kissed Ron and tickled his side.   
"Your solution?"   
"Dance."   
Draco instinctively adjusted his pheromones when dancing with Ron. With his chosen one, the effect was of being enveloped into a sultry cocoon, comforting and wonderfully private. This wasn't like the lust inducing dance that Veela were famous for, this was a true mating dance. Ron responded perfectly, whispering all the things he was planning to do to him later that night. Draco cooed. 

When Draco returned to the Slytherin Common Room to change out of his dress robes, he noted cold looks being sent his way. He was unsurprised when one of Pansy's closer friends, Helene Cottington, approached.   
"You did it, didn't you?"   
Draco merely looked down his nose at her.   
"I? You'd better think on what you are saying."   
Helene stood her ground.   
"It's aways been your style to kick people when they are down, Malfoy. You've strung her along since Third Year, and then you go and marry Weasley! She would have done anything for you!"   
"Really. Done anything _to_ me, more like."   
"She's better off without a part beast like you, anyway."   
Helene stepped backward, as Draco's hand shot out and he gripped her neck.   
"Tsk tsk. Didn't you learn anything from Care of Magical Creatures? If it's got claws, it knows how to use them."   
His thumbnail pressed her jugular. A glint came to Draco's eyes as he contemplated how by merely switching forms, his thumbnail's sudden growth would effectively impale itself into Helene's neck. Helene's mouth worked, but no sound came.   
"Veela are beings, you insipid twit. Not that you would know. A Vomito Elixir takes nine days of brewing. It keeps for less than a week. So unless you wish to cast aspersions on Zabini-"   
Helene blanched.   
"or any of the others who would vouch for my near continual presence in my dorm, you had better learn to hold that tongue. Or I'll remove it for you."   
Draco's sneer hardened.   
"Parkinson was presumptuous and a fool. If I had wanted her in any fashion, I would have made it perfectly clear. I didn't brew the potion nor did I find a way for her to imbibe it."   
The two Slytherin, confirmed liars, stared at each other. A soft tap landed on Draco's shoulder.   
"What is the problem?"   
Blaise was evenly gazing at Helene.   
"She has accused me of dosing Parkinson up."   
"Mama mia. Such quick assumptions," Blaise deadpanned.   
Draco snorted and released Helene. The rest of Pansy's friends came and stood around her.   
"But I can say for sure that Draco did not do it," Blaise continued.   
Blaise was the most neutral of all the Slytherins. He was, after all, out for himself. He had no coterie, a la Draco or Pansy. Only business associates and they never wanted to spend time with him longer than was necessary. Helene and the other girls hesitated.   
"Not at all?"   
"I swear on my mother's womb. Draco did not do it."   
The girls left, and Blaise gave a satisfied smile to Draco.   
"Bad business is good today, si?" 

The ride to Platform 9 and ¾ was a winding down from the party. Harry stared out of the window, Hermione was looking forward to going to the spa, Ginny was napping, and Ron and Draco were cuddling. The atmosphere was peaceful, with only the lulling sound of wheels rattling over tracks.   
There was a tense moment when after Harry and Hermione said their goodbyes and Zabini strode off after offering a terse nod, they found the Weasleys absent. Ron could feel Draco's hand clenching tight around his own and every glimpse of a blond man made him flinch. They shouldn't have worried. The Weasleys appeared and they were gone. They left Lucius' anger coiling around Narcissa. 

TBC 


	22. Narcissa Malfoy: Pissed Off Part Veela

"Draco?"   
"Yes?"   
"If he wasn't at the Platform and he didn't try to break up the wedding party…"   
Draco leaned his head on Ron's shoulder.   
"Then he is at the Manor."   
Ron frowned.   
"But… It doesn't make sense. You definitely won't be there."   
"He waits."   
"Your mother! He's going-"   
"He won't succeed. Unless he tries the more powerful curses."   
"He will, won't he? Harry told me…"   
Draco sighed.   
"Haven't I told you everyone underestimates my mother? That she hasn't been dueling in anyone's memory doesn't mean that she's no good at it. Don't worry."   
"How can you be so sure?"   
"Well. I know what it was like before Blossoming. Now, I'm faster on the draw and my mind is clear. If I want to attack," he snapped his fingers. "The magic obeys. Sometimes before half the syllables of the incantation are out of my mouth."   
"Your mother hasn't Blossomed."   
"It merely means that she has no conscious control over pheromones and has no secondary form. But she still has the Veela racial advantage over Lucius. And of course, he won't be expecting her to put up a fight. She never likes confrontation."   
"Doesn't that mean she'll just submit?"   
"Oh… I'll say not. Let's just say…"   
Draco kissed Ron.   
"What we have, the Slytherin in her covets. If she can't have his love… She'll surely not tolerate Lucius' cavalier treatment of her any longer."   
"What will she do?"   
"Nothing a proper Gryffindor like you would consider." 

  
Narcissa did not turn around to acknowledge Lucius when his reflection appeared over her shoulder in her mirror. She slid the hat pin from her hair and levitated her hat into its proper hatbox.   
"A lady's boudoir is her sanctuary. And you did not have an invitation."   
"Where did you go this afternoon?"   
Narcissa began unbuttoning her long gloves. Lucius took a step forward.   
"Where did you go?"   
"A party."   
She reached back to unclasp her necklace.   
"What party was it?"   
"You are rather prying, Lucius. You have never been so disagreeable to me before."   
She tilted her head to take off her earrings.   
"And you have never hidden anything from me," Lucius retorted.   
She stood and with a wave of her wand, her robe unbuttoned and slid off her body, like a skin off a serpent. The robe was sent to the proper closet compartment with another wave of her wand and she faced Lucius. Her corset was cut so that it exposed and displayed her breasts like fresh peaches on a platter and garters held up her sheer white stockings, her feet in beaded and high heeled slippers. She did not wear panties.   
"Hidden things from you?"   
Lucius concentrated on her insolently upturned lips.   
"That boy-"   
"My son."   
Lucius' hands clenched for a second.   
"That boy. Not only consorted with a Weasley. A male, at that, but _married_ that trash. And you were at that abomination of a wedding!"   
Narcissa did not look away as she usually did when confronted by Lucius.   
"It is no business of yours."   
Lucius took another step forward. Narcissa did not move.   
"No business of mine!?"   
"You disowned him. What does it matter?"   
"Pride! I raised-"   
Narcissa gave a sharp laugh.   
"You aided and abetted that ungrateful wretch!" Lucius's nostrils flared.   
"Disappointment does not sit well with you, doesn't it? Especially that puppet you wanted Draco to be, the perfect creation of your loins?"   
"He would not be shaming this family if it were not for your interfering!"   
"Allowing you free rein over him for over sixteen years and you taking offense at whatever I may do to aid him as a mother is certainly a vexation I can do without."   
"Allow me? Do not forget that you are my wife!"   
"Yes!"   
Narcissa's voice snapped with ice.   
"I am your wife. Faithful, dutiful, and self-effacing. For eighteen years. But do not forget, I had my pick of suitors. And I allowed you to treat me below my due. My son deserves better."   
Lucius mouth curled.   
"Better? Weasley trash? You delusional fool of a woman."   
"At least he will be treated with respect by his chosen one."   
Lucius snarled and he swung his wand at her face. It was not a split second but he was gagged and bound, his wand across the room.   
"Always so dramatic, Lucius. It's a wonder you didn't try to attack me sooner."   
Narcissa tapped her wand to her cheek, watching Lucius fume. She toed him with her slipper, turning him on his back and giving him a flash of her pink vulva. She paused, her heel digging into his chest.   
"You man."   
Her inflection was contemptuous. She slipped her wand between her breasts, into her corset and knelt next to Lucius.   
"So arrogant."   
She began to unbutton his fly. Lucius' eyes widened and he began to struggle against his bonds.   
"So sure that everything and everyone should obey you absolutely."   
Her fingers closed around his penis and he stilled when she began to squeeze.   
"Never considering that power can lay with others."   
He began to sweat, as her fingers pushed back his foreskin. He shuddered against his will as she grazed his glans with her nail.   
"Ignorant, am I?"   
Lucius remained adamantly silent despite the fact that he was hard and the first drop of pleasure appeared already from Narcissa's steady stroking.   
"I was permissive to a fault."   
She pressed down on his glans with her thumb and Lucius bit back a groan.   
"I ignored what was going on."   
Lucius was panting.   
"I will not allow such negligence on my part to hurt my son. Anymore."   
She slapped him. And smiled at his recoil and cry. She worked him up again and slapped him once more. And again. And again. Lucius' face was red, and drool mixed with tears on his face.   
"You visited misery on my son."   
Slap.   
"You forbade me from influencing him. Save to spoil him."   
Slap.   
"And this is the mother you've made me."   
Slap.   
"No more."   
She left him, her hand reaching down to play with her vulva, moisture already gathering there. With her other hand, she began to pinch her nipples. Lucius closed his eyes.   
"Male. Look at me!"   
Another slap and he yelped and obeyed. She positioned herself over him, teasing him with her labia, which opened and closed over the tip of his penis, not enough to penetrate.   
"Look. Only you have known this. And you never gave me my due respect. Never."   
She dug her nails into his cheek, leaving red furrows.   
"I won't respect you either." 

She opened for him and sank down. Lucius' noises became more garbled as her muscles tightened around him, hot and long neglected. Power and seeking it consumed him long before the conception of Draco and in response, she was frigid and cold. Before he ignored her entirely, she would lie unresponsively in bed and allow him to take his pleasure. When he asked, 'Did you come?' she would say no. This he could not endure and selfish as he was, he did not try to be a more attentive husband, a lover to his wife. And Narcissa allowed this. She never disabused him of his conclusion that he married a wealthy and respectable lady, a proper match for his station in society, and an indifferent, sexually barren woman. 

So when her vagina clutched hungrily around him, her thighs powerful and sure and her movements abandoned and feral in their goal of pleasure, he was staggered. He could barely believe it, the sight of her breasts heaving and bouncing with every lunge, her tongue moving across her suddenly ripe lips, and the juices that flowed from her as she moved. It inflamed him. She thrashed around him, wild and vicious, slapping him, forcing him to move for her. She cried out, throaty extortions and fierce avian sounds that he had never heard before. His arms ached from straining against the ropes and he was getting dizzy for the gag prevented him from taking the breaths he needed, but he strove for her, pride abandoned and ego subsumed to the unleashed sexual fury of Narcissa. Aroused by her like he was never before, he eagerly anticipated orgasm. Narcissa's teeth flashed maliciously and she rose up completely, withdrawing and Lucius wailed at the onslaught of cold air after the perfect perfect cradle of her sex. She took out her wand.   
"_Constricto_." 

And his desire was shackled to him, condensed and stoppered. He was denied. He nearly bit through his tongue with frustration and anger, as she took him into her again. And she freely took from him, riding orgasms one after another, mocking him with her convulsions. And she did not stop. She turned her back to him, presenting him with the view of her lovely buttocks below the tight lacing of her corset as she gained pleasure from him. When she was satisfied, she turned around and continued, pinching him, pulling at his hair, scratching his face, and laughing at the frenzied desperation of his face, the way his eyes rolled and his teeth gnashed on his gag. 

And eventually, the gag gave way. His bellows echoed, obscenities and pleas. His throat felt raw as he gasped for air, he was drowning, the humiliation and sensations too much. And Narcissa, terrible and beautiful like no other time, rising above him, her eyes bright and her mouth enticing and debasing him. Her vagina contracted and she dispelled her curse. Lucius sobbed with shame as she wrung from him the most powerful orgasm in his life, splitting his senses. He fell unconscious, never feeling such depth of love and hate both for his wife before. 

Narcissa stood, Lucius' ejaculate running down her leg. What a sorry sight Lucius presented now, wounded and bruised in ego and body, his penis quiescent and cowed. She walked to her jewel box and plucked out a hair ribbon. She wrapped it around his palm, tapped it with her wand and stepped back. 

  
Five minutes later, a comatose and exposed Lucius was Portkeyed into the main boardroom of the Ministry of Magic. 

  
Ron felt that familiar twinge of insecurity as the Ministry car drew closer to the Burrow. Could Draco be happy, when he was so used to the Manor? Could he stand living so below what must have been luxurious standards even compared to Hogwarts , having much less room overall, with no House Elves to speak of? The sinking feeling intensified as he watched Draco's eyes sweep the unkempt garden, the mismatched windows, the plainly misshapen and unassuming presence of the Burrow, dwarfed by the Manor. But Draco smiled.   
"It feels like a _real_ home."   
Relieved, and kicking himself mentally for thinking that way, Ron leant in to whisper to Draco.   
"Maybe we should get away from everyone for a while?"   
Draco glanced at the conspiring grins on Fred and George and nodded. Ron led him to the frog pond and they began walking the perimeter.   
"It's great for swimming in."   
"I like that tree," Draco pointed. "It's got lovely strong branches for a nest."   
They climbed onto a large rock usually used for diving and sat, hugging.   
"Mum wouldn't approve a nest. She'll worry about us falling and breaking our necks."   
"Hmm."   
Draco kissed Ron.   
"Tell me what to do."   
"This is good."   
"I meant about living here, with your family. The rules."   
"Oh. Well… When you smell cooking, just find a place at the table. Help with the cleaning up afterwards. If Mum wants any one of us, she'll yell for us."   
Draco's eyebrow quirked.   
"Yell?"   
"Yeah. Dad gets carried away working on stuff in the garage and Fred and George's work is really noisy."   
"I see. That's precisely what I need to know. I'm used to House Elf summons."   
"Mum's nuts about me keeping my room all tidy. She might go through, so you shouldn't leave stuff lying around."   
"Ron, I'm a Slytherin. Leaving stuff around would be suicide."   
"Ha. Keep out of Fred and George's way. If they offer food, don't eat it. Check the chair before you sit down to eat if they get to the table first. Look up and down before walking through doors unless it's the kitchen. Check the bathroom, especially the shower head and toilet seat and toilet paper. If they do prank you anyway, you can get back at them. Just make sure Mum or Dad's not around first."   
Ron considered.   
"Percy just wants to be left alone. If he tries to boss you, you know what to do. And you know about Ginny. If Dad starts showing you muggle stuff he's got, I guess it's best for you to listen. There's a ghoul in the attic. That's about it."   
They sat very still on the rock, watching the water ripple from the wind, a turtle's head emerge from the water, a fish leaping to snatch a fly. Rustling interrupted their reverie.   
"Fred? George?" Ron called out.   
They emerged from behind some rushes.   
"Don't mind us-"   
"Just passing through-"   
"You two were spying," Draco flatly announced.   
"Ah hah. Ronniekins, he's a smart one, he is!"   
"Wouldn't have expected that-"   
And both began to laugh. Ron rolled his eyes and prepared to wait them out, unless Molly called them. Draco stood up on the rock.   
"Unless you have something to say that doesn't involve minding our business, go away."   
"Or what?"   
Draco returned their grins with a fierce one of his own. He launched himself at them from across the pond, claws outstretched. Ron witnessed for the only time in his life the twins apparating out of fright. Draco squawked in triumph.   
"They are so going to prank us now," Ron muttered.   
"I don't care!" 

  
They ran up the stairs to Ron's room. Draco giddily pushed Ron against the door, and kissed him soundly.   
"Our room, Draco," Ron clutched him.   
"I like the sound of that."   
Draco smirked when Ron missed the doorknob a couple of times from having his balls squeezed and petted through his robes just the way he liked it. He managed, finally.   
"Whoa. It's changed."   
"Orange," Draco murmured.   
All of his things were just the way he left it, but his room was quite obviously different. For one, an extra chest of drawers, dark and imposing mahogany, was present. Draco's Nimbus Two Thousand and One was leaning in a corner and the bookshelf held more books. The Burrow as just as magical as Hogwarts and had changed to accommodate; the room was perhaps twice as wide as it used to be. Draco's trunk was of course also there, but the bed…   
"I'm really going to enjoy this," Draco drawled.   
A canopied, cushy and obscenely luxurious double size bed occupied the space where Ron's former rickety bed used to be.   
"Where did this come from?"   
Draco chuckled.   
"One of the attics at the Manor, I expect. I think I like this marital gift of Mother's the best."   
"More than the rings?"   
"Hang the rings. Let's get squicky." 

TBC 


	23. Honeymoon

"What are you doing?"   
Draco watched, bemused as Ron poked about under the bed, checked the pillowcases and began shaking out the comforter.   
"Fred and George probably did something."   
"How stupid of them if they did."   
Draco began unfastening his robe.   
"If Molly doesn't punish them, I would. And it would be terribly, horribly excruciating. I fully deserve uninterrupted time with you."   
Ron stepped up to Draco and pushed Draco's hands away from his shirt buttons. He undid them, delighting in the subtle differences between the white of the shirt and the pallor of Draco's skin. He trailed his palm over Draco's collarbone and onto Draco's sternum, fingers softly moving. Draco sighed and his eyelids fluttered, and Ron could feel his heart beating. Worries of Fred and George's probable mischief faded; there was only Draco and the sensual feast that he embodied with every breath and gesture. He began kissing Draco's shoulders and neck, pushing the shirt off. Draco tugged him closer, working on Ron's robe. Draco's belt buckle clinked and there was a hiss of leather against cloth, then another clink as it hit the floor. A rustle, and Ron's pants followed. Ron pushed Draco onto the bed and knelt, undoing the laces of Draco's shoes. Done, his hands slid up Draco's thighs, framing the fly at last. 

  
Draco smiled as Ron slipped out of his boxers.   
"Ah, look at you…"   
The obviously satisfied look on Draco's face still made Ron blush. He fell back into the bed, and Draco clambered over his knees, kneeling there and looking at Ron as Ron looked back at him.   
"It's just wonderful. Such a far cry from-"   
Draco turned his head.   
"What?"   
Draco looked at him sideways.   
"It's nothing. Silly, actually."   
"I want to hear it."   
"Well."   
Draco settled between Ron's spread knees, reaching out to lazily massage the junction of Ron's legs and torso.   
"Before this… When I saw your shadow on the wall in the hallways, I'd wait and kiss it. I'd kiss your shadow because I couldn't kiss you."   
Draco's cheeks pinked.   
"It's such silly, sentimental mush."   
Ron smiled and shrugged.   
"I don't know. I'm glad you told me." 

  
Ron stretched, knowing how Draco loved watching him. Draco's fingers began lightly tracing muscles, tickling slightly, making him twitch. Draco nuzzled Ron's erection with his cheek.   
"I've missed this," he murmured.   
Draco's thumb was slowly massaging the center wrinkle of Ron's scrotum.   
"Aaahh…"   
He nuzzled some more, lips barely brushing the tip. His fingers wrapped around the base, steadying as he began to seriously fellate, varying the rhythms of his tongue and his thumbs going underneath to massage the tender spot of skin beneath the scrotum.   
"…Ohhh…"   
Draco cooed, pleased at Ron's sex flush. Draco's fingers tightened gradually as Ron edged closer and closer to the inevitable brink. Draco slowed, a steady suckle that drove Ron crazy with pleasure. Ron loved this best, the leisurely fondling that completely dissolved his nerves to the ebb of a low tide. Draco's tongue rasped against the vein of the underside, feeling Ron's pulse. And then, Draco's throat distended and took the whole length in one vigorous pulsing swallow and he came, his orgasm crashing through his body like a tsunami, Draco's pheromones giving him rippling echoes of pleasure after the first wave. 

They lay still for short while, Draco's head resting on Ron's lap and Ron combing his fingers through his hair. Ron stirred and Draco crawled up to him and they kissed, slowly. Just so much pressure increasing on the lips and tongue, and soon Draco was arching against Ron, soft coos and endearments. But Ron knew not to listen. He used his greater strength to perfect advantage, his hands kneading Draco's buttocks while keeping Draco from satisfying himself by pining him on his side. He stroked only there, each hand squeezing and scratching just hard enough, his palms molded around the firmness there, and Draco shuddered. He kissed and nipped any where his mouth could reach, listening to Draco's breathing hitch. Ron shifted Draco's leg over his shoulder and began to lick, laving the soft skin of Draco's balls and then underneath, pressing tightly against his anus and then dipping in, kissing and sucking.   
"Oh!... coooo… Beloved…cooo…"   
He kept this up until Draco's struggles intensified despite himself, for Draco loved delay and teasing. Ron continued this exquisite premeditated neglect of Draco's sex, kissing and licking his way up, concentrating on his nipples. He bit down, hurting just enough, and soothing with his lips and tongue. They became rosy from the attention, perfect little pleasure targets on his chest.   
"Cooo… yesss…"   
Ron's fingers smoothed down Draco's stomach, tracing the bellybutton and lightly combing the soft, near invisible hairs leading to Draco's erection. The softest strokes through the pubic hair, not quite touching and augmented with Ron's warm breath made Draco clutch desperately at the sheets. His legs spread, and he choked out a muted demand. Ron smiled.   
"You have such soft skin tonight," he murmured.   
His hands moved over Draco's thighs and hips, away from the erection. Draco whined at the delay.   
"The toiletries Mother sent… cooo… French milled… absolutely the finest…nearer, nearer, touch me!"   
Ron's fingers clamped down on Draco's hips as he bent down and nipped at Draco's thighs.   
"Ah!"   
Hard, dry kisses, nearer, nearer, all around the penis, which twitched until Ron gave the last kiss to Draco's tip. Draco hissed and his hips strove against Ron's grip, his heels leveraging his legs further apart.   
"Now. Now! I can't wait!"   
"Bossy, bossy."   
Ron's fingers were inside, moving in agonizingly tight cadence in and out, brushing against Draco's prostate.   
Ron leant in and whispered.   
"Want me?"   
"Roooonnn!"   
"You don't sound like you want it enough," Ron's mouth quirked devilishly.   
"….aaaah…Ron- I need- no…"   
Ron twisted his fingers.   
"Please! Beloved! Please!"   
And Ron finally obeyed, lowering himself over Draco. Draco squirmed, enjoying Ron's weight on him. He wanted Ron to touch as much of him as possible. Shivers came upon him, anticipatory quakes as Ron's hand made its way between them to shift Draco's scrotum out of the way. And Ron slipped in, easily and fully and Draco's undulations took on a frenetic quality. Ron guided Draco's legs up and wrapped them around his waist. And he clamped his hands tight, stilling Draco. He whined.   
"Nah uh."   
Their eyes locked, challenging each other. Ron made the smallest thrusts he could manage while Draco tightened around Ron. There was nothing but the sound of their breathing, in tandem and impatient. Draco worried his lip with his teeth as Ron continued to tease him.   
"Now. Now! Hard! Give it to me!"   
"Yes!"   
Force. Draco made a hiccupping sound. Ron kissed him and his hips spurred forward again.   
"Aaauugh! Yes! More!"   
That was what Draco needed, power and vigor that made Draco drunk and he keened, drugged by the pheromones emanating from Ron's body. It was perfect and gloriously rough; at times he was nearly lifted bodily from the bed. This built in him such ecstasy, this complete loving from Ron's body, that when he came, he cried out, a half sob and half laugh, such was the joy that engulfed him. 

  
It was a wonderful summer. They swam naked in the frog pond and caked mud on each other just because. The water was the color of iced tea and coolly inviting. Draco would sometimes stalk around the pond, kingly stork-like, and snapped at the frogs. Sometimes, Ron clasped Draco in the water and the moisture and warmth of their bodies would heat between them and Draco would succumb to Ron's caresses, allowing him to mount from behind, in the pond, where they might be caught. 

They played footsie under the table during breakfasts. They gorged on Molly's homemade ice cream. Draco's massages became exclusively for foreplay. Degnoming the garden wasn't as much as a chore anymore, with Draco having a chance to exercise his wings, diving at them with claws outstretched and sending them squealing and cursing straight to Ron, too frightened to react when he suddenly flung them far over the far hedges. They played strip chess in Ron's room. They dribbled chocolate on each other and licked it off, slowly, eagerly. Draco built himself a nest in the oldest tree on the property where he and Ron whiled away hours staring at clouds and kissing. And surreptitiously, laying side by side, Ron could with the slightest shift of his hips take Draco, a slow and gentle rocking that mimicked the way the winds moved the tree boughs. Ron chased Draco using the Nimbus 2001 before dinner times to work up Draco's appetite, because Molly had never seen such a picky eater at her table before. 

They dodged Fred and Georges's pranks and experiments, worked on Hogwarts homework together and corresponded with Hermione and Harry. Blaise owled, telling them that he was bedeviling Pansy with the cursed receipt he had given her for her invitation fee that gave her nightmares and delusions of being overweight. Her health was on a downward spiral, wasn't that grand? Arrivederci. Narcissa owled, to say that if Lucius so much as set foot in St. Ottery Catchpole, he'd wish he'd never been born, so enjoy yourselves. Harry owled to say that he was glad he had some left over wedding cake stowed in his room for the summer and how did they like his present of 1000 thread count sheets? Hermione owled to remind them to do their homework and to enjoy their wedding photo album. Oddly enough, their favorite shot was a muggle style still picture, of them slow dancing together with Ron's arm holding Draco close and Draco's fingers clutching Ron's hand.   
"It won't change."   
"Never."   
They kissed.   
"Good to know." 

Finis 


	24. Author Notes

I want to thank all of the people who've followed me on the writing of this work, and giving repeat reviews, which really encouraged me. I like the commentary and speculation, it gave me some ideas, as some scenes were written after comments. So you reviewers have contributed to this fic, not just as morale boosters. Cheers! 

I want to give credit to Coppola's "Godfather" for my interpretation of the ineffable Blaise Zabini. I wanted him to be a Michael Corleone with a repressed romantic streak and a gentleness that he never gets to display because of his station as one of the more dangerous Slytherin. Cookie points and my respect to those who translate his "pickup line" to Hermione at the wedding. Blaise also channels Don Vito Corleone occassionally. Crabbe and Goyle are warped versions of Lucca Brasi. 

Of course, I credit veela and the whole HP universe to JKR. For my interpretation of Draco's particular secondary form, I credit Discovery Channel, National Geographic, and Animal Planet for giving me footage of ostriches, emus, roosters, cranes, storks, information on pheromones and bird behavior in general. I also credit Steven Spielberg's "Jurassic Park". Draco's predatory form would be a attitudinal, prettier, anthromorphic Velociraptor, with the same sorts of noises. It is also where I got the idea that Veela can change genders. 

I credit Snape's encounter with Harry at the wedding with trivial cocktail knowledge I've picked up somewhere and my affection for Snarry!fanfiction. Though this Harry does happen to be heterosexual. The irony of him losing his virginity to Draco. 

Hermione and Ginny's planning I credit to watching "Father of the Bride" with Steve Martin too often for my own good. 

My interpretation of laid back Harry came from before Book Five came out. He deserves a free year from Voldemort anyway. His quirkiness I credit to Xelloss from the anime Slayers. Hermione is the busybody I can be, only I'm too cynical and a procrastinator to care for any endeavor as much as she can. 

As for Narcissa... Well. I woud never get myself hitched to a first class louse like Lucius, but I'm a female too. I've also read "The First Wives Club". And she is part veela. Tadaa. Vicious Grace Kelly and Situational Dominatrix. 

As for Ron and Draco... What can I say. Rare, and with a bit more comic potential than a Harry and Draco pairing. 

I'm not about to stop writing, but it will be a long time coming, as this story started as a pwp scene in my head first. Rest assured, Ron and Draco will be around and I will be experimenting with rare pairings. 

Thanks to all. 

LamiaKuei 


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